


Peel

by ManMagnificent



Category: Pact - Wildbow, Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 10:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 200,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24469624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManMagnificent/pseuds/ManMagnificent
Summary: After a long period where life has become rote for Taylor Hebert, she finds new life when she is Awakened. Her eyes are opened and she can seen things others cannot. She dives into this world head first, learning all that she can while still keeping her guard up, because with all she's learned, surely the worst waits around the corner.
Comments: 27
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

“Who would even do something like this?” I heard muttered, one amongst a dozen of whispers which, together, were a cacophony.

The halls of Winslow were narrow, usually sandwiched between classrooms on either side, but on the second floor, windows were to the left and classrooms to the right. A crowd had gathered in front of one class, students broken up into cliques, but squeezed together because all of them wanted to see.

A row of windows had been opened to let in air, not too wide because part of Winslow’s history was that a student had thought it was a good idea to push another that had been too close as a prank. The kid had fallen and broken his neck.

“Someone is _totally_ getting fired,” one of the voices said and laughs sprouted from the particular group. They were all white, which made my stomach bubble with discomfort at the implication. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for the skinheads to try and get the janitors or security guards fired or give a teacher of colour shit to deal with.

“Chen’s going to have to move,” another said.

“Yeah,” said another still.

“Fuck _him,”_ said a guy. “Gave me an ‘F’ on my History paper.”

“That’s because you fucked it up and didn’t even _try_ to hide that you were copying,” his friend said with large grin. He got a punch on the shoulder and stumbled back, there was no pain or anger, instead laughter erupted.

“All right!” a voice boomed behind me. I turned and spotted Mrs Michelle, tall and a little hefty, with a fringe that didn’t do her blocky face any favours and dressed in business casual. Her voice was hoarse and the one time I’d looked at her with the Sight, I’d seen how her throat filled with an inky blackness that felt like corruption. “All of you! To your classes!”

She wasn’t the only one, the janitors were with her and I could see the frustration written across their expressions as they wheeled their buckets.

I got caught up in the tide, my path taking me across the classroom whose door was ajar. The stench hit me first, a rolling stink of urine laced with asparagus and subtle flavours of shit. As I got close enough to see into the classroom, I saw a painting on the board, made with varying shades of brown and mixes of red that almost looked like blood. The image was of two bodies, twisted together and hoisted up, I couldn’t tell their genders but they were having sex and it was _ugly._

“Move aside, Ms Hebert!” said Mrs Michelle.

I had Math with Mr Quinlan, a class which I thankfully didn’t share with Madison or Emma, though Sophia would be there, and since I’d Awakened, she seemed like she was always paid attention to me which was hard not to notice.

The class was mostly full and I found my sit at the furthest end, next to a wall which had posters of math equations and quotes about math being able to explain the universe.

Colour warped and shifted when I used the sight, shadows got darker and light brighter though it hit each object strangely. The desks were the most vivid, bright and whole, filled with light and life they didn’t have when I wasn’t using the sight; in the air around me, spiderwebs spread out, thick or thin, some taut but many loose and fluttering in the air to the smallest breeze.

I ignored the webs and directed my attention to my desk, focusing the sight so that I could see the spirits that made up the desk, all the attention that had been devoted there. The desk had lived a long life, in the real world it was a tanned brown and just sanded, but with the sight it was made of heavy wood and inscribed with overlapping scrawls of names, profanities and jokes.

There was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing too bright to show a magical working, and nothing dark that showed different spirits in the mix.

I sat and pulled out my textbook and notepad. My bag I put in the table under me because even though I had magic and I could make it come back to me, I didn’t have the power to do something like that all of the time.

The last dregs of students started coming in and Sophia was one of them, dark skinned, tall in a way that wasn’t my awkward type of tall, and lithe from running in the track team. I’d also started running when the bullying had reached its worst, but my body didn’t look like hers as a result.

Her expression was almost angry, an anger I also saw in her eyes as they moved directly towards me.

On instinct I used the sight and saw her: she had less weight now, more shadow then human with dark glowing eyes; I saw bright hot spots coming from her backpack, pockets and another at her waist, and when I focused on it, I saw that it was a knife.

She had her attention to me and with the sight, this presented itself a taut spiderweb moving from her to me.

A resignation settled in my stomach as I sat back.

 _It had to end,_ I thought.

For some reason I couldn’t understand, Emma, Sophia and Madison had started bullying me shortly after we’d gotten into high school. From the other two, it had been a hollow hurt, strangers deciding to do petty stuff that generally made my day horrible, but from Emma it had hurt because she’d been my best friend. Almost a sister.

Things had escalated to the point that one of them had pushed me into a locker, me spending a few days in hospital and a week of seeing strange things before I’d found an amount of luck and Awakened. The bullying had stopped since my Awakening, with Sophia only watching me with suspicion.

Sophia did something. She reached into her pocket and touched one of the hot spots. I couldn’t see what it was, but I saw the reaction, the web moving from the girl in front of me to her desk flared bright and started to change colour. The girl herself started to get restless and looked around. It wasn’t even half a minute before she grabbed her bag and moved to another table.

Sophia sat in front of me and didn’t turn back.

The resignation was a pit, building but never filling.

Sophia sat in front of me, her focus on scrawling notes in her notebook while Mr Quinlan started the lesson. I couldn’t focus and I spent much of my time looking either at Sophia’s back or the spiderweb which stretched from me to her.

“Taylor,” said Mr Quinlan and I started a little as I turned to him. I heard a few chuckles. Mr Quinlan wasn’t the stereotypical math teacher. He liked to work out and it showed. He wore clothes that were a little too snug and showed his muscles; but with the sight all of the muscle was gone and he was scrawny, almost sickly, wearing large glasses that always shifted to the bottom of his nose. “Pay attention okay?”

“Sorry, sir,” I said and swallowed.

Ever since the locker, all the teachers knew who I was and treated me with a gentler hand. I wasn’t sure I appreciated the attention because it reminded everyone else of everything that had happened.

I still couldn’t pay attention, but I made sure to watch out for his attention and when it was directed at me, I made sure to look a little busy.

Sophia stuck a finger in her mouth and pressed it on her book.

A burst of wind burst out from her, though it wasn’t a physical wind. It spread out and the webs connected to us either broke or were blown away.

My heart started to beat faster. Three months into this world and I still hadn’t done anything worth much. Most of it was just trying to get a routine so that my house would be protected.

But Sophia knew magic, _real_ magic instead of the playing it felt like I was doing. She had enough power to do _this,_ whatever it was.

She turned over and I sat back, wanting to scoot away but unable to.

“Are you a Nazi?” she said.

“What?”

No other words, no other thought, filled my head.

“Are you a Nazi, or a skinhead?” she said. “Or are you with them? Did they Awaken you?”

“No,” I said.

She shook her head. “Gotta be better than that, Hebert,” she said. “No to what?”

_Words have power and truth matters above all._

It had been the first lesson I’d learnt and it was the only thing I’d focused on for a while as I’d been getting used to things.

“I don’t identify as a Nazi or a skinhead,” I said. “Nor do I share their beliefs. I don’t think the person who Awakened me was a Nazi.”

“Then who was he or she?” she said.

I swallowed. “I’m not…” I stopped. Words had power and truth mattered, with a promise I could _will_ something into existence, bind an Other or call someone foresworn. It hit me that I’d almost made a promise there. “I made an oath not to tell anyone.”

 _Not that I want to tell you,_ I thought.

She nodded and turned back.

“Wait,” I said, “why—” but I stopped as she ended whatever magic she’d worked. All of the connections she’s cut or redirected snapped or drifted back. Mr Quinlan’ attention turned in my direction but he didn’t say anything. I looked down and focused on my books.

***

Everyone was still talking about the prank by the end of the day. I spent most of my time thinking about Sophia and what she’d said, what she’d meant. Was that why her and Emma had started bullying me? Because they thought I was a skinhead?

But what had I done to make them think that?

I checked my watch and started my walk, switching to the sight to look at the world around me. I turned towards the high-rises of Downtown and saw how they gleamed against the sight, beacons against a city that was on its last leg. When I turned to everything else, it was a picture of contrast, some places so dark they were an abyss, while others had enough light that I could see the love that had been put into them.

Without turning my head, I checked around me, looking over the silk attached to me, feeling the weight and intensity. There was nothing hard, all of them drifted with the wind, showing that the people who produced them were aware of me, but they weren’t paying active attention.

Sophia had sent boys to chase me only once, but I’d learned from that. I’d started jogging every morning to build up stamina, to become better, and when I’d Awakened, I’d made sure to train myself to use the sight to keep track of things around me.

Something that also helped to make sure I always knew if Emma or Madison had their eyes on me. It only _sometimes_ worked with Sophia, because if she wanted to, she could make it so it was hard to spot when she was paying attention to me. Which meant all the time she made me _know_ that she was looking at me intentional.

Walking home from school was an hour at a brisk pace, but I had two before I had to get home. I took my time, kept my eyes open and watched the webs, taking in the contrast between light and dark, and seeing the spirits that were so dense that I could see them move.

There was a breeze running through the Bay, largely warm, and to the sight it was a few ghostly children playing chase. Two of them, chatting to each other, cackled before they ran towards a man wearing a hat. They jumped and together, grabbed the hat and pulled it off the man.

The man turned, his hands going to his head before he turned and ran for his hat. He was lucky that a woman was in the way of the hat and she caught it.

 _You could bind them,_ I thought and not for the first time.

Mr Calvert had found me at a time where I thought I’d be spending the rest of my life in a facility. He was a Practitioner and he’d explained what was happening to me. People who were close to death or experienced moments of extreme trauma, often found that they could see beyond the veil. He’d told me about the practice, an entire month of getting ready before he’d let me Awaken.

I’d told him about these guys and he’d named them wind spirits, though he’d noted how rare it was form them to have corporeal forms while still not being bound.

He’d told me I could get some use out of them if I tried to bind them, but a lot of the times I’d seen them they’d been happy to play, and it felt a lot like a binding was hell on the Others who experienced it.

Just as I could see them, they could see me and knew what I was, and they scrambled. Most running while two flew into the air.

I cut through a park, on the small side and not well kept, bushes were overgrown, the path which wound through the park was filled with moss or grass, and bird baths had dried up. There was a little pond, but it was almost black and no animal could live within.

After cutting through the park, my house was only a block away, and when I reached home there was no one there. Dad would be at work as he usually was around this time, and that meant I could work.

Food first, because that was a part of the ritual, and then I started preparations. I filled a bottle with water and then poured a heap of salt. The solution didn’t matter as much as the ritual, the repetition, but I’d made sure to use something that made sense. Salt had protective properties and I was using this ritual to make protections around the house.

I drank the salt-water and let it sit in my mouth as I went into the living room. There was no need for speaking, no need for magic words because I hadn’t gotten to the point where Mr Calvert felt comfortable giving me that sort of thing, only spitting out the water in a spray so it hit a corner.

I repeated the process, getting at each corner of the living room, making sure I used the same sequence I’d used yesterday and the day before, then I moved to the kitchen, upstairs starting with Dad’s room, mine and then the bathroom, then the basement.

A knock at my door sounded just as I was done.

 _Please don’t let it be fucking Sophia,_ I thought and I walked up to the front door where, on opening it, stood a boy shorter than me, younger and with a sharp face and curly hair. He had bored eyes and as they ran up and down me, that boredom persisted.

To the sight, the boy was a dull and washed out, wearing clothes that were designed well and looked nice, but which didn’t have the colour to punctuate them. His eyes were as dull as any I’d ever seen before, his hair was fell and he looked almost dead, zombie-like. The only light and life there was to him were the thick webs tied around his fingers, all of them stretching out further than I could follow.

“Taylor Hebert?” he said.

“Who are you?” I said, standing a little taller.

He didn’t snort, but I saw it running through his body.

“You can call me Alec,” he said. “I was sent here by someone we both know and he told me to teach you some stuff.”

“Mr—” I started before I stopped, remembering the oath. “Who?” I asked, suspicion in my voice. After Sophia’s weirdness, I couldn’t be in a trusting mood.

“Can’t tell you that without breaking a promise,” he said and he let out a sigh. “Listen, I have video games that are waiting for me and I want to get this done as soon as possible, okay? Can you give me that?”

_Calm. Remember that words have power. Remember that even if people are telling the truth, they can still lie or at least give false information._

“I don’t know if I should trust you,” I said. “How do I know that the person we both know is the one I’m thinking about?”

“Okay, then,” he said, slightly annoyed. “The _Practitioner_ that we both know.”

“I know a few Practitioners,” I said.

Alec groaned. “This is going to take longer than I thought, isn’t it?” he muttered. “Okay, the guy we both know has a snake familiar. He sent me here to teach you some stuff because he thinks you’re ready.”

Mr Calvert _did_ have a snake familiar, which meant Alec was at least telling the truth about being sent by someone we both knew. But could I trust that this wasn’t some trap?

Mr Calvert had Awakened me, given me purpose when I’d felt empty and hollow, but I wasn’t so naive that I trusted him completely. The guy was old and I was still in my teens. Relationships like that almost never turned out for the best.

“Am I going to get hurt?” I asked. “Is this some trap or something?”

“Not a trap,” he said. “And if everything goes okay you won’t be hurt. It’s just teaching you some stuff, teaching you to do your first binding and then we part ways.”

I felt my heartbeat faster at that, felt the urge to move forward, to do some real magic, before I took a step back and focused on the words, reading for any traps.

“And when we part ways, will I still be fine?” I asked, a bit of smugness in my voice.

“You’re going to be one of those,” he muttered and he shrugged. “I really have no idea. If you’re stupid, then you won’t be fine and you’ll mess up some shit. If you’re not stupid, then everything’s going to be fine. We’ll come back here, anyway.”

I didn’t move.

“Hey,” he said. “If you don’t want to come, say so. I can just go back to my games. But I don’t know when the boss will remember that you exist again.”

I dithered, afraid that there was something I was missing, that maybe that this was another of Sophia’s pranks, but also wanting to go, to learn magic like what Sophia had been doing back at school.

“Okay,” I said. “Give me a bit, I’ll be back.”

“Sure,” he said. “You going to invite me in?”

I snorted. “No. Stay here.”

I closed the door, got a post-it and jotted down a note telling Dad I’d be back later, and that if I wasn’t back by ten to call the police. Then I went to grab my backpack which had some pens and an empty notebook and returning to the front door.

Alec was still there, leaning against the wall, his phone out and a video playing. It looked like it was one of the latest from Apple. He put it away as I stepped out.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Okay,” he said with an expulsion of air. “Tell me what you know so far.”

He had his hands in the pockets of his jacket. It was a good jacket too, not to heavy, but one that would serve as the sun started to set earlier and more of a chill passed through the air. He walked in the lead, both of us headed towards the park.

“The basics,” I said. “Truth matters. Also repetition and rituals. I know that ghosts are a thing and to watch out for goblins, but that’s about it.”

“He really didn’t give you a lot, did he?” said Alec. “My old man was fucked in the head, a shitty person that shouldn’t have been a father, but even he gave us the basics.”

“Um…should you be talking about your father like that?” I asked.

“If you knew him, you’d agree with me,” Alec muttered.

“Would I?” I said. “I don’t want to call you out or anything, but that sounds close to an oath.”

“I know,” he said with a lazy shrug. “But I also know that you’d agree with me if I told you who he was. Anyway, we’ll be binding a ghost, they’re the most common Other in a city like this. Most of them aren’t that strong, it takes a _lot_ to get a strong ghost, but it’ll be a first step, I guess.”

I reached into my backpack and pulled out my notebook and my pen. Writing things was dangerous. If I lost my notebook and someone used it to know about this world, then that would be my fault, and because it was my fault, it would also be Mr Calvert’s.

But a lot of this stuff needed to be written down to make sure I didn’t forget anything and take mental shortcuts.

“Ghosts,” I wrote in big words and then underlined it. It was messy, especially since we were walking. “What do I need to know about them?”

“First, they come from death, especially shitty deaths,” he said.

“Wait, can I ask something?” I said interrupting. “Shitty, you keep using that? But are you telling the truth when you do?”

“Shitty’s an adjective,” he said with a shrug and before I could ask, he continued, “If someone died and they were in real pain, then they’ll leave behind a ghost, or if they were brutally killed or something. Movies make you think that ghosts are these smart things that can haunt and play these tricks, but most ghosts are just poor things stuck in one moment of pain.”

All said in a bored monotone, even the swears were perfunctory.

My stomach rolled.

“And that’s what we’re going to be looking for?” I asked. “Someone that was brutally killed?”

He shook his head. “If anyone was murdered better Practitioners than us would have found them by now.” We got into the park, cutting through so we would exit into a main street. “What we’re going to find will be _much_ weaker.” He looked at me. “But I think that you won’t like it so much.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because the guy we found was homeless,” he said. “And he died because he hadn’t eaten in a while.”

***

We got a cab to the Trainyard where Alec checked his phone and then started to walk down a neighbourhood I’d never been to before. There were houses on one side of the streets and apartment buildings on the other, behind the apartment building was the Trainyard, filled with abandoned carts.

There were a few people in the streets and using the sight I could see that some were looking at us, their attention too fixed for my liking, but Alec didn’t seem to care.

“Practice is about patterns, that sort of thing, so if something’s been done a long time it’s more powerful…or maybe not that, but it’s generally accepted that it works. In the old days, salt was about purity and persistence, if you salted food it lasted longer and it didn’t rot. Ghosts are Others that are short lived and they’re filled with all the bad emotions the person had at the moment of their death. Salt is opposite to that, so it gets ghosts good.”

“So, what?” I said. “I just have to throw salt at it?”

“That’d just banish it and depending on how powerful it is, not for very long before it appears again,” he said. “Ghost live in the moment where they died, but they also like to spread it around. So if you don’t want any of that, you’ll have to protect yourself.”

“With salt,” I said. He nodded. “We didn’t bring any salt.”

“There’s a bodega around here,” he said.

“Do you come here a lot?” I asked.

“A few times,” he said. “A girl in my circle wanted a goblin around here that looked like a dog. We had to be in the area for a while, I got a sense of which place has the best food.”

“Circle?” I asked.

“My coven,” he said. “We call ourselves the Undersiders, but we don’t do much. Just have a clubhouse and we pick up some Others. Sometimes for the boss or ourselves. Mostly we teach each other magic.”

“That sounds cool,” I said, unable to keep the longing in my voice.

 _You could ask to join,_ I thought, but Emma appeared in my mind and the hurt I’d felt when she’d stopped being my friend.

“You can bind something in two ways,” he said. “First one is chasing it into a circle and capturing it, then make a deal; or just make a deal with by giving it something it wants to get something you want. Ghosts are easy, you just have to convince them you’ll give them something and they’ll agree to be bound.”

“What do I have to give…this ghost?” I asked.

“Think about it,” he said. “You’re going to be doing this stuff on your own, gotta figure it out.”

I took a breath and it after a moment’s thought, the answer became clear. “He died hungry,” I said. “So I could promise to feed him.”

“Basically,” said Alec.

“But what can I feed a ghost?” I asked.

“Power,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe a bit of blood everyday so it can grow stronger. But I wouldn’t do that. If you give something your blood, it’ll have a connection to you and it can use that. Ghosts aren’t much, but they _can_ be, so don’t let down your guard.”

“What about food?” I asked. “Maybe…” I frowned. “Maybe I could make it a ritual offering. Food every day?”

Alec shrugged. “This is about trying things out. See what works,” he said. “Like I said, ghosts aren’t much and if you mess things up it won’t be too bad.”

“Okay,” I said.

We found the bodega, Alex bought some salt, soda that came in a glass bottle and a bar of chocolate. I bought a few sandwiches. We went to the grounds of an apartment building, then to the other side where we found a cut in the fence that led us into the abandoned train yard.

It suddenly hit me how stupid this had been because of how secluded the place was. Derelict in the real world, it was even more so with the sight, bathed in darkness with not a smidgen of light. I had to focus less on the sight to be able to move through the place because that was better.

We went to an opened train cart, with a small cot and tin cans scattered throughout. It was brighter when I peeked with the sight, with a sense of affection attached to it.

“We’ll start with protection,” said Alec. He threw the bag of salt at me and I almost dropped it. “Draw a boundary around us for protection. The three basic shapes: square is hard and concrete, good against abstract threats, but it has corners and those are a weakness; triangle is pointed, directed, better for attack than defence because it has those corners; a circle is round and it doesn’t have a point where that energy pools. So which do you use?”

“You said all of that too fast,” I said. “I don’t think I got it.”

“Don’t wanna repeat it,” he muttered. “If you’re not paying attention, that’s your fault.”

“But I was paying attention,” I said. “You’re just…” _being an ass,_ I finished in my head, which felt like it would be close to a lie.

I took a breath, doing my best to remember. Squares worked best against abstract threats and I couldn’t be sure if ghosts were abstract or not. The circle was the safest bet and I started to pour it around us.

“His name was Calvin Witmore,” he said. “Call out and see if you get anything.”

I nodded. “Calvin Witmore,” I said. A web lit as I called the name, stretching from me to the train cart. But it was still thin, flickering. “Calvin Witmore.” The web glowed brighter and become more solid. “Calvin Witmore.”

On the third, the line resolved, glowing bright and taut. I saw him as he flickered into existence. A man, sallow with a protruding belly. He had a shaggy beard and unkempt hair, and he wore layered clothes them made him look bigger. One moment he was at his feet, looking in our direction with sallow eyes, and the next he was on the ground, laying there, a whimper passing through his lips.

“What now?” I said to Alec.

“Talk to him,” he said. “But remember that he doesn’t have a lot going on.” He tapped his head. “Keep it simple. Stuff he’d be able to understand.”

“Stuff around his death?”

He nodded.

“Calvin,” I said and stopped. I felt uncomfortable seeing him like that, on the ground, such pain and loss in his eyes. “You died because you were hungry, and I offer you food.”

I moved forward and passed my hand over the circle to drop the sandwich. The moment my finger was out of the circle my stomach _yawned._ I’d eaten at home, but I suddenly felt like I hadn’t eaten in weeks. I was suddenly tired and dizzy, my stomach starting to cramp up. I stumbled back, the sandwich falling on the ground, and the feeling subsided, though I still felt like I could eat.

“You’re gonna learn not to do that,” Alec said. “You’re not protected if you leave your protection.”

“You could have warned me,” I muttered.

“I could have,” he said. “I could do a lot of things, but I choose not to.”

My mouth closed and I looked back at Calvin, he’d come to a stand but hadn’t risen. It was more like he’d moved from laying on the ground and jumped to finding his feet. The way he stood was filled with fatigue, almost as though he was seconds away from falling.

He disappeared and appeared again next to the sandwich. He looked at it, picked it up and brought it to his mouth. He took one bite and disappeared.

“What happened?” I asked.

“You gave something that was _made_ out of hunger a meal,” he said. “You just released it.”

“What?”

“What I just said,” he said.

“But…I wasn’t supposed to do that?”

“I mean, what you do is up to you,” he said. “I taught you, now I’m going to take you home. Do what you want from now on.”

“You…”

“Careful now,” he said. “Don’t want to lie.”

“I don’t like you right now,” I said, which was the truth but it sounded pathetic and childish. He was annoying and I was annoyed by him.

He snorted. “Either you learn to be better or the really screwed up stuff gets you,” he said. “Now let’s head back. Unless you want to get back on your own?”

I shook my head. “Let’s go.”

***

Dad was waiting for me when I got back, worry written across his features, which evaporated as soon as he saw me. He rushed forward and wrapped me in a hug, which left me a little tense before I eased into it. He pulled back and the relief turned into a low anger and frustration.

“You’re okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Just a little hungry.”

I’d eaten the sandwiches I’d bought for the ghost, but I still felt a little peckish. Alec had explained in saying that became Calvin had been so new, he’d been a lot more powerful and the effect would linger for a while, though it would end at some point.

“I got Pizza,” he said. “It’s in the oven.”

I headed for the kitchen and Dad followed.

“You were out with a friend?” he asked.

“Not a friend,” I said through a mouthful, which was really disgusting but I was _really_ hungry. “A guy I met recently. I…a part of me thought we could be friends, but I don’t think that’s going to work out.”

“He didn’t…”

I swallowed and shook my head. “It wasn’t about the bullying or anything else,” I said. “He’s…remember I told you that I’m into something like Wicca?”

Dad nodded, but it was stiff. Because I’d Awakened, it wasn’t a lie, but it felt so close that I felt uncomfortable. But this was safe, enough distance he didn’t know about magic, but it explained some of the stuff I did around the house as religious practices.

“He’s into the same thing,” I said. “He taught me some stuff that I didn’t know, but he was annoying about it.”

“But the police,” he said. “You told me to call them.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe that was overreacting, but…better safe than sorry, you know? I don’t really know the guy and even though I didn’t think I was in danger, I…it was paranoia.”

Dad sighed. “We should get you a cell phone,” he said. “So you can call. So that I can know from you what’s going on instead of me pacing in this house when you’re gone.”

I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know what I could. Dad didn’t like cell phones because they were the reason Mom had died. She’d answered hers while she was driving and…

 _Could I bring Mom back?_ the flickered through my head. But I didn’t think I’d like to have Mom back as a ghost. She would be pain incarnate and I didn’t think that would do her or me, any good. 

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” I said, which was the truth.

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “I should go to bed, it’s been a hectic day. Just a general bad day for everyone.”

“Good night,” I said.

I finished eating then went upstairs to my room, pulled out my notebook and reviewed everything I’d jotted down. One page had ghosts and everything I’d learned, while the other had shapes and their properties within magic. Square, triangle and circle weren’t the only shapes, there were also more complicated, many sided shapes, as well as the line being the simplest.

How did all of them fit within magic? What did they mean? What happened if I made a diagram with overlapping symbols, maybe something like the Deathly Hollows symbol from the Harry Potter books. Would that have special properties?

I was left excited as I lay on my bed thinking about the possibilities and the tests I could run. As hard as the existence of ghosts were, I’d have to find more, probably get better at binding them to get a sense of all the things that worked.

Which would mean I would have to find someone that had just died.


	2. Chapter 2

I probably bought more salt than I needed over the next few days. Dad didn’t ask anything because in his mind it was part of the whole Wicca thing, though I couldn’t help wondering what questions sprung to his head whenever he spotted something strange.

It was uncomfortable to think about the sorts of things that could happen to a person when they died that would make the leave behind ghosts, but I needed those ghosts to get better at magic.

Which meant I needed to know where people had died and filter out deaths so gruesome that the other Practitioners in the Bay would rush to get the resulting ghost. Newspapers weren’t something I could use as a result, all the stuff that happened there would have attention and I didn’t have any faith that I would be able to stand up against a Practitioner.

Between thinking up the _how_ of getting a ghost and thinking about the function of ‘circles’ in magical diagrams, I spent a lot of time practising with my sight. Getting a sense of webs and how they moved and reading the differences between what I saw and _saw_ to form an idea of a person’s true nature.

It was a Wednesday afternoon when something caught my attention, a sudden web that darted from its owner to me. I had a sense of the basic types of attention threads could denote and there was a wariness in this one I wasn’t used to, especially directed at me.

I raised my hand. Miss Sanchez was going through her lesson.

“Yes, Ms Hebert,” she said.

“May I be excused?” I asked.

She glanced at her watch. “It’s only a few more minutes before the end of class,” she said and she went on with her English lesson.

I didn’t pay attention to her for the rest of the lesson, my attention on the web and its colour. It was vivid and taut, but the colour was a dark red with bits of sludge. When I compared the web to others around me it was thicker, fuller in a way I couldn’t put my finger on.

Class ended and I was the first to move, pushing my books into my backpack and getting up. A few webs went taut as people looked at me, but the intensity wasn’t the same.

I walked out and left, down halls which were already starting to fill with people.

 _This is a very stupid idea,_ I thought. _You don’t know who this is. It could just be Sophia doing something._

But Sophia’s thread wasn’t the same as this one.

And…

I wasn’t sure if it would work but I tried it out.

“Sophia Hess,” I whispered while I walked.

A web flared with light, moving from me in a straight line to the other side of the building. The web was already starting to fade but I used it to get a sense of the other one, the one that looked apprehensive and ugly, to see that she was as far away as possible from the source.

 _Not her,_ I thought. _So who could it be?_

Was there another Practitioner in Winslow? And were they dangerous?

 _You shouldn’t be doing this,_ I thought even as my feet still carried me forward. I turned right into a staircase which took me to the second floor and walked a little faster, still following the threat. I set down a hall with a line of lockers at either side, filled with people who were going to their classes.

The source was closer now and I could see that whoever it was, _what_ ever it was, was in the girl’s bathroom. Before I could reach it, a crack reverberated, everyone screamed and got low; the stink of shit spread into the hall as three girls ran out of the bathroom.

I did my best to track them, but the smell was alive, filled with too much light to be normal. It caught the air and spread out, hitting like a truck, making my eyes water and my nose and throat burn.

People rushed for the windows and pushed them open, but it wouldn’t help, it _didn’t_ help. The wind rebounded before it could be pulled out, it rose to the ceiling and fell back over everyone like a cloud.

I put my arm up to guard my nose and started moving. For others it was hard to see, but I had the sight and for all that the putrid stink made my eyes water, I could still the impressions of people and move around them. I quickly ran until I could turn away from the smell, but it was distracting and it meant I couldn’t keep track of the webs, which was why I was surprised when I spotted Sophia in front of me. 

“Come with me,” she said and turned to stride away.

I took a step forward before I suddenly stopped, realising that _fuck_ that. I didn’t like Sophia, it wasn’t out of the question to say that I hated her. In my list of people I hated, Emma was first and Sophia took second spot, tied with Madison. She hadn’t participated directly in the bullying, at least not as often as the others, but she had a way of making a statement and reinforcing it so I felt like shit for a few days.

She stopped and turned back.

People moved around us, some going _towards_ the stink while others ran away. There were teachers and security guards in the group too. Principal Blackwell passed by, not running, but walking with a fierceness that had students move out of her path without even realising it. She had an aura to her, I saw, not magic, but something palpable.

“I said come,” said Sophia.

“I heard you,” I said. I took a breath and steeled myself. “But I don’t want to.”

“I could threaten you,” she said and she took a step forward. “I’ve been watching you and I don’t think you know a lot. Which makes sense, even with all of _this_ you’d still be…lacking.”

I swallowed and stayed quiet because I couldn’t think of a retort. It was true, I didn’t know a lot. Mr Calvert had Awakened me because he felt sorry for me and he kept teaching me stuff because of that, but it was clear that he had other stuff he was doing and I was only a peripheral interest.

But even if I was lacking, even if I wasn’t powerful, I couldn’t give Sophia this. I couldn’t give her what she wanted.

So I stood my ground.

I saw frustration flicker across her expression. She turned and walked away. I let out a relieved breath and turned in the direction I’d come from, the bathroom whose toilet had been messed with.

I was _sure_ that magic had been used there, between the web filled with apprehension that had been directed at me and how the cloud had rolled into the corridor. Sophia’s interest in it seemed to also lend credence to the theory, but it also made me think back to the picture drawn in shit I’d seen before and how Sophia had been after that.

My next class was Art and I arrived late, but the teacher didn’t mind. Everyone could smell that I’d been caught in the prank which was excuse enough. All through it I considered the pieces, especially Sophia and the comments she’d made.

She thought that I had been Awakened by Nazis which made me think that maybe there were Nazi Practitioners in Winslow, and maybe they were doing this, whether it was a curse or they had some Other doing it.

 _Sophia could be trying to stop it,_ I thought and she could need any clues you can give her.

It would be the _good_ thing to do, stopping whatever it was that was out there. But a larger part of me didn’t want to give Sophia the pleasure of thinking she was a good person. Whatever Other this was, whoever was responsible for this, I’d sort them out myself.

But I’d need a little help.

***

“You can call me Grue,” he said.

“Grue?”

He was a strapping guy, dark skinned with cornrows that looked like they’d just been done; he had dark brown eyes that had an intensity to them, a nose on the wide side and full lip with a bit of pink to them.

To the sight he was broader, his face painted white with a skull mask and the rest of him cloaked in darkness. Even with how dark he was, his eyes were darker still, black orbs that seemed to suck in all light and leave it _bereft._

It was better to look at him without the sight.

He shrugged. “Names have power,” he said. He had a deep voice, almost soothing. Each word was slow and careful, with a patience to it. “If you don’t want to give people that much power over you, then you use another name. It has its problems, if you change your name too much the spirits won’t recognise you. But I was Grue when I started the practice and it works for me.”

“It’s already too late for me. If I wanted my own name?”

“You’d lose any clout you’d gathered with the spirits or any Others,” he said. He took a sip of his coffee.

The two of us were at a cafe in the nicer areas of Downtown. I’d called Mr Calvert yesterday and told him that I needed to know more magic to deal with an Other at school and he’d sent Grue. It was early evening and though Dad still hadn’t bought me a phone, I’d told him I’d be out and in a public place.

“Our backer said you wanted to deal with an Other,” he said.

I nodded. “There’s something at my school,” I said. “I’m one of two, maybe three practitioners, and I think one of them is a Nazi.”

“E88,” said Grue, his expression twisting. “Do you know about the Practitioners that make up the Bay?” I shook my head. “There are four big groups. The Protectorate, New Wave, Empire Eighty-Eight and the Asian Bad Boys.”

“Aren’t some of those guys gangs?” I asked. “I’m sure the Empire are in a gang.”

“They are mostly gangs, but they have Practitioner helpers that make the stuff they do stick,” he said. “E88 has a _lot_ of members that are connected to old families and they seem to have a lot of Practitioner which gives them influence. You’re not dealing with the person in E88, are you?”

“Maybe,” I said with a shrug. “Do you know who Sophia Hess is?”

Grue snorted and nodded. “We’ve run into each other a few times. First time I was chasing a shadow person that’d gotten powerful enough to make an impact. She wanted it too, but I was better and she missed out. Second time we were chasing a shadow fox, she sent a fucking gremlin after me. The thing nearly tore my off my throat.”

“That sounds like her,” I muttered. “She doesn’t have a name like you?”

He shook his head. “Most people don’t,” he said. “Getting back to the Other at your school…”

“Sophia thought it was me, and she thought it was because I was Awakened by the skinheads,” I said. “That made me think that maybe there’s a skinhead Practitioner as school, but now that you say that have a lot of Practitioner, maybe she was just grasping at straws?”

He shrugged. “If it happens that it _is_ one of the Nazis then don’t deal with it yourself,” he said. “They have a lot of strict rules that make this impractical, but the Protectorate generally tries to do good. Go to them.”

I bit my lip. “Do you think that I should go to them anyway?” I asked. “If this Other is dangerous…?”

“What’s it done so far?” he asked.

“It drew a picture out of shit in one classroom,” I said. “And it made a bomb in one of the toilets. I think it did something to the stink too, it seemed like it didn’t want to get taken away, like it wanted to linger.”

“So that’s what that is,” he said with a small smile.

I blushed. “I showered before coming here,” I said. “The stink bomb thing happened yesterday, but the smell is still cloying and it _stays.”_

“Sounds like you’re dealing with a goblin,” he said. “Alec said our backer didn’t give you much.”

I nodded. “I’ve mostly been practising with the sight, and I’ve been thinking about the little that Alec told me. Mostly about shapes and meanings and thinking about how they come together.”

“Tell me what you’ve figured out,” he said.

And I did. Most of it was the stuff Alec told me, but other stuff was about lines as my thoughts on them.

“Lines are directional,” I said. “They can either run parallel something or perpendicular. I think that perpendicular is cutting or stopping, but since lines don’t cover, things can go _around_ the line. But I have no idea how to relate that to the practice.”

“Okay,” he said. “You’re right about the perpendicular thing, but it seems like you don’t get parallel. At least you haven’t thought about it.”

“That’s because I have no idea what I can say about it,” I said. “With most of this it feels like I’m making it up. Made worse because I don’t have anyone I can ask to explain.”

“You could become an Undersider,” he said. “Our members are…colourful, metaphorically speaking, but it’s people who care about this stuff. And it can get you the perks that our backer gives us.”

“Perks?”

He nodded. “An allowance so that we don’t join any of the other groups in the city,” he said, “and he sometimes sends us out to pick up an Other that’s causing trouble or one he’s interested in. He also buys some of the Others we bind if we’re not interested in using them.”

I frowned. “Why?” I asked, but then a lot of things didn’t make sense about Mr Calvert.

Grue shrugged. “Back to your thing. It sounds like you’re dealing with a goblin.”

“I was told to look out for those, but I wasn’t told how or _what_ they are.”

“They’re the most common Other in Brockton Bay,” he said. “There are three families of goblins in the Bay, those from the Trainyard, those from the Docks which live in abandoned warehouses, and those on the old abandoned rig. They usually keep to places that are broken, they don’t like refined or civilised things, but if that ‘civility’ breaks down enough, they’ll rush in.”

“But Winslow isn’t run down,” I said. “It’s a school. Sure there’ve been budget cuts, but not to the point that it wouldn’t be considered civilised.”

“Which means you’re either dealing with a powerful goblin or one that doesn’t have a choice,” he said.

“How do I deal with it?” I asked.

“You can bind things one of two way, if it’s weak, you’ll use elements that are similar to its nature, but if it’s strong, you’ll use opposing elements.”

“Like ghosts and salt?” I asked. “Ghosts are corrupt and salt is pure?” He nodded. “So what are the elements of a goblin?”

“They’re filthy little things, so pure things work against them. Silk, Holly or running water. They’re also natural, so something crafted would work too. Metals laced with an element, iron that’s hot or really cold.”

I pulled out my notes and started jotting down everything he’d said.

“So I’d need to catch this goblin in a chain or something like that?”

“Or Holly or surround it in running water,” he said. “The last part is really hard. Better just do it with a chain or something. The goblin should be weak since it’s in civilisation in the first place.”

I nodded. “A few more things.”

He pulled out his phone and checked the time. “I have somewhere to be so make it fast.”

“Can you give me any tricks?” I asked. “Magic that I can keep practising. I’ve been doing okay with the sight, but it’s the _only_ thing I can do and I’d like to learn more. Especially easier stuff.”

“Okay,” he said. “What you were saying before about lines. You can use them with the sight. Lines perpendicular to a connection strengthen it, but if you make one perpendicular you cut it. But you have to make sure to use power to get that done.”

“How?”

“Blood works,” he said. “Or you can use the power of an Other you’ve bound. Sometimes there are symbols, then the spirits usually listen to what you want them to do. But for bigger effect you’ll want to give power. Can you give me that?”

I nodded and slid my notebook towards him. He drew a circle with two little scythes running off of it, one at the top and the other on the bottom of the circle.

“You’ll want to put a part of yourself in there to complete the circle,” he said. “The scythes basically turn things away. This will make sneaking easier because you won’t have to keep cutting the connections that form. But there’s usually a rebound, if someone would have paid attention to you and you force them to look elsewhere, it’ll degrade the spell faster or, if you keep doing it, it’ll mean they pay more attention to you when it’s not there.”

“Can I play with this?” I asked. “Without being harmed by the effect?”

“You can try,” he said. “Just don’t use too much power. If you do, it means things can fill you up, and enough of something can take you over.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I might need this.”

“Sure,” he said and he stood. He finished off the dregs of his coffee. “Stay safe and if you want to check out our base, I can give you our number.”

“I don’t have a phone with me,” I said.

He took my notebook again and jotted down his number.

“Thanks again,” I said. He nodded and left.

***

There were more connections at school, so that was where I tried things out. Unlike the ghosts, this was easier because I didn’t have to search for anyone and I could see utility off the bat. I was still looking for people, there were a few mortuaries in Brockton Bay which posted obituaries and I used those as I looked for a good candidate but practising with the symbol Grue had given me was more exciting.

I drew the circle with my pencil as the teacher went on with her lesson. First a circle and two scythes at the top and bottom. I made sure that I had the sight on as I shoved a finger in my mouth and then pressed it in the middle of the circle.

The effect was immediate, the webs that had been connected to me, all of them frail and loose, drifting in the air to show that people weren’t paying much attention to me, detached. I smiled.

_Success._

But how far could I push this? How far did the effect linger?

The scythes meant _turn,_ but how far could something turn?

Experimentally, I started to rise from my seat. I caught Mrs Ramirez’s web nearing me before it drifted away. I stood straighter and more webs tried to connect. When I was on my feet and starting to walk towards the door Mrs Ramirez’s web snapped into place, striking me with more force than I was expecting.

“Taylor Herbert,” she said and with those words suddenly every web had connected to me. I stopped, _froze,_ my eyes wide. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“O-out,” I said, the words catching in my throat. What had I been thinking doing this like this? When I wasn’t sure what it meant?

 _This is experimenting,_ another part of me thought.

“One usually asks for _permission_ before they do,” she said. “Sit back down before I give you detention.”

I swallowed and did, my head down as I went back to looking at the symbol I’d drawn. It looked like someone had rubbed it out while I’d stood. But at least I had a sense of how it worked. Attention could only be stretched so far before it connected again. Maybe if I tried to make the circle more direct, it would have a better chance of working.

“Taylor,” said Mrs Ramirez. “Are you paying attention?”

“Um…I…”

“Well, _do,”_ she said.

I nodded and stopped. Was that a yes, had I promised to pay attention? Maybe it wasn’t and maybe I didn’t have to, but I didn’t want to take the chance and make this into a lie.

I stopped thinking about magic as the class ran its course.

But I resumed in Mr Gladly’s class, first thinking about what I wanted to try out and thinking about the past experience. Mrs Ramirez had noticed me because she sort of had to and when everyone had been directed, they’d also noticed me too. Which meant the solution was making the circle more directed.

I drew another circle and this time I drew a triangle at the head.

I stopped, thinking about the symbol grew had given me and how it’d been designed. The little scythes had been drawn so they covered most of their side of the circle, could that be because it gave me better cover?

Then would my triangle, which was more directed, smaller, only cover a set distance?

My mind drifted back to the Deathly Hollows idea, a diagram overlapping with shapes that meant different things of a variety of effects. Could I do that here?

There was already a triangle at the head. I drew out the same scythes and the sides of the circle, making sure they were parallel to each other. But when I looked at the circle it looked unbalanced. I scratched it out and started it again, but this time I made sure that the scythes were directly across each other, which put the stem of one closer to the triangle than the other.

 _Please work,_ I thought and I licked my finger, then put it in the middle of the diagram.

Connections drifted away again. I stood just like before and this time, even as I walked out of the class, no one was paying any attention to me. Most of my classmates didn’t care about me and my walking out, and Mr Gladly was stopped by the diagram.

I walked back in and sat down, already it had started to lose its thickness. I scratched it out and Mr Gladly’s attention turned back to me, his web getting taut.

I mentally prepared myself for the questions he was going to turn my way. He did and the class was _exhausting_ as a result, I was happy when I ended and happier when lunch came around and I could get to work.

Having drawn another diagram on the back of my hand with a pen, nothing directed, but enough that I could walk around the school without anyone paying attention to me, I set off for the toilet where the stink bomb had gone off.

Since yesterday it had been closed, the damage had been so massive that a stall had broken and sewerage had backed up onto the floor. The main reason everything had been closed off, though, was because of the smell. It had gotten so bad that I’d heard that some students didn’t want to attend any classes near there because it got too much.

I had the sight active as I walked into the hall and I saw scent and how it lingered. It had a life to it, catching the wind in the wrong way so that it didn’t escape outside. As a girl walked through the hall, past the toilet, I saw as the stink sunk, clinging to her as she went past me, a smaller cloud that barely live.

She was so distracted by the smell that she didn’t notice me, but then it was also possible that it was because of my diagram.

I checked on it. The ink was still strong and it wasn’t getting thinner, which probably had to do with the fact that there weren’t a lot of people here.

Since I’d arrived, the smell hadn’t come close to me, which increased my confidence that there was something magical about the stink, that maybe it was some sort of other.

Alec had mentioned that abstract threats existed, was it possible that this was something like that? Maybe a wind spirit that had turned bad, but didn’t have enough power to be corporeal against my sight?

I walked into the stink and watched as it continued to drift, not really landing on me. I looked at the back of my hand and found that the ink of my diagram was thinner, which further increased my confidence.

The bathroom’s door had been closed but not locked, not really needed when the smell was thicker inside. I pushed in and saw the damage. The floor was sopping wet, they’d put up a block to keep the water from spilling out and it’d worked, but my push meant some of the water got out. Inside, the stink was thicker and it jumped at the chance to spread out, clouding the hall with its stench and breaking my diagram.

The smell was on me at once, getting into my noise, eyes and mouth. I quickly devolved into a cough mess as I stumbled back and then ran away.

Thankfully there was no one around, but the stink around me would give away the fact that I’d been up here.

I decided that it was worth bunking my next class for a shower at the gym so I could get the worst of the stink off me. I wasn’t surprised to see that I wasn’t the only one. But I was surprised when I saw that the person there was a Practitioner and, going by the ghost that stood beside her, a Nazi.

***

The ghost was _big,_ muscular and he wore only pants that looked frayed from use. There was only defeat in his expression as he looked at me, as he was weighed down by the heavy manacles at his arms, legs and neck.

“So there’s another one,” the girl said. I recognised her. I’d seen her around, but I didn’t know her name. She was a shorter than I was, but with an expression that told me she wasn’t afraid of me; she had blonde hair which was now wet and dark brown eyes that were almost black.

To the sight, her hair was a rich blonde, voluminous in a way that many would have killed for if it was only real; her eyes were a bright, cold blue, almost piercing, and she wore a white robe whose hood wasn’t worn.

“I thought Hess was the only one in Winslow.”

I swallowed, my eyes still flickering to the ghost and then to what she was wearing to the sight.

_Not even hiding it, are you?_

She grinned which only unsettled me even more.

“Impressed by him?” she said. “Heard he was a scrawny bitch when he was first found. But our people—”

“I’m going to shower later,” I said.

“Stop her,” the girl said and I felt my heart jump.

I started to turn, to run and then I stopped as it suddenly dawned to me that there was nowhere to run. She was a Practitioner and she knew more than me, she had a ghost that was big and maybe strong, and she had teachers better than those that I had.

“Who are you?” she asked. “Tell me your name.”

I could say no, but what was the point? She could find out if she wanted to.

“Taylor,” I said. “Taylor Hebert.”

“Hebert?” she said and snorted. “Should have seen the nose. Fuck off.”

I walked away without a second thought and then, when I was out, all of the heavy hopelessness, the sense that no help would come, that it wasn’t worth fighting, disappeared and I was left _pissed._

But even pissed I realised there wasn’t anything I could do about it. She was still more powerful.

 _I could catch the stench,_ I thought. _Maybe send it after her so she always smells._

The thought was dangerous, especially when she had protectors, but it made me smile and that was good after seeing that a person like _that_ could even exist. 

_Out of sight, out of mind._

I refocused on the stink and everything I knew. For the sake of argument the stink was abstract, without form, and that meant if I tried to bind it, I’d have to either get the stink into a ‘circle’ or use one as protection. If it was abstract, then I’d have to use something hard, a square which as rigid to confine it. But I wanted to layer on elements that would make the binding more powerful, or my protection more powerful.

Which meant…maybe I could use an opposing element. Maybe soap?

It was worth a try at any rate.

I got home and went about my ritual, first protecting the house, then making dinner, then going up to my room and writing down everything I’d experimented over the day, everything I’d learned about the stink spirit.

The next day I went to school with some dishwashing liquid, a few towels and some salt. I didn’t know if I’d use the latter, but it was better safe than sorry. I waited until the third period before drawing the diagram at the back of my hand, but this time I used blood instead of spit.

When I looked at the lines, they were thicker than they usually were.

I walked into the toilet, there were a few people in the classes on the floor, but they ignored me because of my diagram. The stink also ignored me and, as I stepped into the toilet, saw that the diagram had started to thin.

 _Quickly,_ I thought and I got to work. First pushing the water back and then forming a barrier with the towels to make sure that it wouldn’t rush back in. Then I got started on the circle, squeezing out the dishwashing liquid to draw out a simple square, adding to some of the sides that seemed thinner than the others.

I glanced at the back of my hand and the diagram was still going strong. I licked my hand and rubbed and the ink. The moment that it was gone I saw a few webs flicker towards me and connect. Most didn’t have too much intensity but there were two that were _taut:_ Sophia and the Nazi.

Ignoring them I focused on the task at hand.

“Spirit,” I said. Because I didn’t know if it had a name. I saw something with the sight, a flare of activity that reverberated through the acid green cloud that permeated the room. “Stink spirit.” Another reverberation. “Stench spirit. Show yourself.”

At those words, the _order,_ the cloud started to shift, coalescing and condensing into a smaller shape until it became a small bird, smaller than a chicken and thinner, though it looked a _lot_ like a chicken. It craned its head to the side, then turned so one of its eyes were on me.

I swallowed.

This was the _second_ time I’d done something like this and the first time hadn’t been a success.

“Can you talk?” I asked. The spirit squawked. “That’s a no,” I muttered and belatedly realised that might be a line and vowed to never do it again.

 _Okay, I’ve gotta bind this guy, but how is that going to work?_ I thought and I wanted to kick myself for all the things I hadn’t asked. Alec had been the one to teach me a binding but looking back, it had been half-assed.

 _Hopefully you’re smart enough that this’ll work,_ I thought.

“Spirit,” I said. “There are two practitioners in the school other than me. And…I think some haven’t realised what you are or they haven’t figured out how to catch you, but when they do, they’ll come and try to bind you.” I swallowed. “Both of them are…” I wanted to say shitty, but the spirit was made of stink and might actually love that, “bad people. Cruel. One is worse than the other, people like her believe that some other people should be slaves, that they’re inhuman and they should be treated like shit. Who knows how she would treat you if she caught you?

“I…don’t know if this is true, not strictly, but I think I’m the best alternative for you. Come work for me and you won’t have to go through whatever they would do if they bound you.”

The spirit squawked again, but I didn’t know what that meant. It turned again and looked at me.

“Do you want an offering or—”

“You really don’t know anything do you, Hebert?” I heard and I whipped around. Sophia except she was a shadow fox with glowing orange eyes.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “And…” I checked, I could still see that the web that was hers was still there, and it wasn’t pointing at the shadow fox. “How are you here?”

“I came to see if you’re the one that’s been pulling this shit,” she said, all the stuff I’d seen and it was disconcerting to see a fox, even if it was shadow, speak with her voice. “But with everything I’ve seen, especially that speech, I don’t think you have the brains for it.”

I wanted to swear at her but held back.

“But it worked,” she muttered. “It has to be bound in something. Give it something that can hold it and I’ll show you a containment seal.”

“Why would you help me?”

“Everything comes at a price,” she said. “I give you the seal and you talk to me like I wanted. Is it a deal or not?”

I thought about it. I hated her, I really did, but I also wanted that seal, another piece of magic to my slow growing collection.

“Yeah.”

“We’ll meet at lunch,” she said.

I nodded and got back to the spirit. I pulled out my lunch box from my backpack, then pulled out my sandwiches, put one in my mouth and ate it, while the others I resolved to throw away. Unlike with the ghost, I threw the opened lunch box out of the circle.

The chicken-bird flapped its wings and settled on the lunch box.

It looked at me expectantly.

“Don’t try anything,” I said, before I carefully stepped out, afraid that it would expand into a cloud and strangle me again. I closed the box and squeezed the spirit in.

I felt a well of achievement.

My first binding.

***

“You stink,” said Sophia.

“And you’re your usual charming self,” I muttered before I could actually think through what I was saying. “At least the charm that _I_ know from you.”

She snorted. “Your binding isn’t complete so that spirit’s influence is leaking,” she said.

I’d noticed. I’d had one class to go to after finishing the binding and everyone had recoiled from being around me. I’d looked with the sight and seen that an acrid stench was coming out of my backpack and since it was mine, it meant everyone recoiled from me, that they were disgusted by me.

I sat down at her table. The cafeteria was full to bursting, people eating and chatting, some with projects spread out in front of them, and others with their laptops at the centre of their tables, with food spread around them.

The leakage from my binding meant that, even though there weren’t a lot of empty tables to move to, people found reason to get up and leave, most after glancing at me and scrunching their noses, a few after too loud guffaws.

“You said you’d show me a containment seal,” I said.

She nodded and reached for her bag. She pulled out a notebook with only with paper, none of them with lines. She pulled out a pencil and a marker.

“This is a Chinese or Japanese thing,” she said as she started. She started to sketch using the pencil, drawing out script that was either Japanese or Chinese, but making them harsher, angular instead of the smoother shapes I often saw on TV. “A few of the Asian cultures believe in commanding more than bargaining, so when they bind something at its core it’s about sealing it. _This_ isn’t that. When they do it it’s usually more refined, laced with patterns that have been used for generations so you know they’re powerful. This is a bastardisation of that, to be used in conjunction with western practice.”

She was talking too fast, the entirety of her attention on the seal she was drawing. She’d completed the pencil work and started to fill it in with marker.

“It’s better to use it if you’ve gotten the Other to agree to the binding before using it. I’ve seen it work if you don’t do it, but it fades quicker.”

She completed the characters. There were three of them, running down instead of across. She pulled out a ruler from her bag and started to draw a rectangular border around it. She started to use marker again to fill it in. Using the ruler, she started to rip the pages so that only the bordered seal remained.

She pulled out some glue and ran it on the back of the page.

“Give me what you used to contain the spirit,” she said. I pulled it out and started to hand it to her before I pulled it back. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something there. I frowned at her and she laughed. “I’ll give it back to you after I’ve pasted on the seal.”

 _Fuck you,_ I thought. _Fuck you for wanting to take this away from me. For being you._

“When after?” I asked, my voice tight.

“The second I’m done putting this on, I’ll give it back,” she said.

I shook my head. “No thanks. Give me the seal and I’ll do it myself.”

“Whatever,” she said. I took the seal gingerly and put it on the lid of the box. I pressed against it and started to run my finger over it so that the glue was spread evenly across the seal.

When I looked with the sight, the wafts of stinky air had stopped spreading from the lunch box.

Around me, the webs were starting to realign. More people were noticing the empty tables around us and some had already started to move closer for a seat. We wouldn’t have the same privacy we’d had before.

I filed that away, that the stink spirit could mess with connections in the same way the diagram I was using could, though it had the unfortunate effect of making people disgusted of me.

 _Sure would make a good curse against Sophia,_ I thought. _Or the Nazi._

_Use it on the Nazi first. Make everyone treat her like shit like she treats everyone else._

I took a deep breath and let it out.

“You’re good with seeing connections,” Sophia started and I couldn’t be sure if it was a question or a statement. I shrugged. “Watch around us and make sure no one’s paying attention. I don’t want to take the fox out after I already used it.”

“You can’t do it on your own?” I asked.

She bristled. “I _can,”_ she said. “But I’m not like you, there were better things to learn and I haven’t needed to since I got the fox. It’s why I…I might need your help.”

“You need _my_ help,” I said. “After all those times you called me pathetic and worthless? You come to me?”

“You are pathetic,” she said. “You let yourself be a victim and it looks like you _relish_ it. Everything Emma and Madison did to you, you could have done something, _anything,_ and you didn’t. You just sulked and skulked.”

Heat started at the bottom of my stomach. My hands clenched into fists.

 _“Let,”_ I said a little too loud. People at the nearest table turned towards us, some paying attention. “Let myself?” I whispered, but it still had the same heat. “You, all of you, you made sure there was nothing I could do about it. Who would I be able to tell? Who would believe me? You’re all popular, the teachers like you and I’m some girl, a nobody in comparison. I had no choice but to keep my head low and _hope_ that you’d stop.”

“You should have _fought,”_ she said.

“And then what?” I said. “Can you honestly say it would have stopped? That _you_ would have stopped?”

She didn’t say anything.

“I would still have been the victim, but now I would also be a snitch and you would have used that against me,” I said. “You’re cruel, Sophia, all of you are. And now you’re doing some victim blaming shit so that you can feel better about yourself.”

 _Calm down,_ a part of me thought, but it was so far away. _You’re using definitive language. That’s a slippery slope._

I swallowed and breathed, trying to calm myself. Sophia was quiet, she looked frustrated, and I hoped that some part of what I said had sunk in. But I didn’t have that hope.

“Ask your questions so that I don’t have to be around you,” I said.

“Tell me about why you were there,” she said. “How you knew that whatever it was, was going to attack?”

“It was watching me,” I said. “There was a warped web around me, it was apprehensive. I used that web to see where it was.”

She frowned. _“See,”_ she said. “Or get a sense of where it was?”

“A sense, more like a direction,” I said. “I didn’t have to focus, I just had a sense of where to go to find it.”

She nodded. “I couldn’t see it,” she said. “I didn’t see any threads. The only thing I saw was you when you called my name. The thing, whatever it is, is good at hiding.”

_Should I tell her that it’s probably a goblin?_

“Are you trying to catch it?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Whatever it is, it’s trying to get influence, and the more influence it gets, the more powerful it will become. Once shit gets to the point that it’s spread more online or it’s in the newspaper, it’ll be too powerful and it might start to actually hurt people.”

“What do you think it is?” I asked.

“You’re here to answer my questions,” she said. “Did you see anything around the toilets, anything that would give me a sense of what’s going on? There were girls in the bathroom, maybe they did something or saw something, do you know who they were?”

“It was chaos,” I said. “I didn’t see much. Just people running out. One was black and the other two were white, but that’s about it.”

“Not much,” she said. “You removed the spirit. It was meant to last, to keep giving it power, but now that it’s gone, they’ll be able to fix the bathrooms and people will be able to go back to class. Keep your eyes open and if you see anything, come to me and I’ll teach you something else.”


	3. Chapter 3

Our basement had always been a mess, between the old furniture, boxes filled with old toys, clothes, books and magazines, and the piano in one corner covered in dust that Mom had loved to play. But after binding Stinkie I saw it for what it could be: the perfect place for my practice.

“I want the basement,” I told Dad that evening as we ate dinner.

“You want the basement?” he said.

I nodded. “I want it to be my space,” I said. “So I can do whatever.”

“Is this a Wicca thing?” he asked.

“I want it to be mine,” I said, sidestepping the question. “A place where I can do stuff without worrying that you’ll come in and find me naked or something.”

“Is that something that could happen?” he asked. “Taylor, do we need to have the _talk_?”

“I don’t know if we _need_ to,” I said and uncomfortable feeling had settled in my stomach. “But we don’t have to. I know all the important stuff. This isn’t it going to be _that.”_

Dad sighed. “Anthony’s kid is a goth,” he said. “Is all of this like that? Or is it a religious thing?”

“It’s…I can’t pin it down, Dad. It’s something I like doing. I feel…” I looked down. “Ever since the bullying started, it’s felt like I’ve been going through the motions. Not really living or doing anything that made me happy. But this does.”

“Can I ask for something?” he said. “Just so that I’m less worried?”

“Sure,” I said.

“I want you to read about cults,” said Dad. “At some point, you might want to meet with other people like you, who believe the same things you do, and…I’ve heard about kids being taken in by cults that way. I just want you to know the signs, to have your eyes open for that sort of thing.”

“I promise,” I said.

An oath.

It had power and saw it playing out with Dad as the last of his resistance crumble into nothing.

From then on, I cleared the basement. Mostly it was something I did after school, but on the weekend Dad and I made it our thing. We didn’t move Mom’s piano, instead we cleaned it up and put it in its own section. There were photo albums we looked through, pictures of me as a kid or of Mom and Dad. I decided that the basement wasn’t fit for them and moved them to my room.

While I did that, I kept my sight mostly active at school, watching for anything that could be the goblin with its mischief. But for the week everything went on as usual. There were a few fights between the skinheads and any other group that wasn’t white; the ABB thought it would be a good idea to throw up a tag in a teacher’s class; and I was sure a girl in my class had started to do drugs.

We finished cleaning up the basement and I got Dad to promise that the space was mine and he wouldn’t just walk in. Oaths didn’t mean the same thing to the unawakened as it did to Practitioners, but I hoped that the diagram I drew on the door to keep him away would work better.

When I tested it, closed the door and lighted fireworks, it seemed that it worked and Dad wasn’t interested in the least in finding out what was going on.

I started the real work. Stinkie had been in the lunch box for the week because I couldn’t risk getting her out, but now I had a space where I could safely get him out while making sure the stink didn’t spread.

With duct tape I drew out a square, looked at it and found that it felt too simple, and I drew out a diamond shape within the square. The shape as a whole meant that there were triangles within the diagram and when I thought about the meaning behind it, I couldn’t figure it out.

Triangles were directed, more for attack than defence, but these were pointed outward. Did that mean something and if it did, _what?_

For that matter, what did the diamond shape in the middle do? What did it add to the diagram as a whole?

“Maybe simpler is better,” I thought and I removed the diamond. I put the lunch box in the middle of the ‘circle’ and stepped out, careful not to step on the tape. I thought about it for a second and then ran upstairs to get an onion, came back, and put it in the circle. “Stinkie, you can come out.”

The lid of the lunch box popped off and landed on the floor. Stinkie swelled up as a giant cloud before she congealed into the chicken bird. It tilted its head to look at me.

“Hey,” I said. “Sorry I haven’t brought you out in a while, but I’ve been a little busy preparing this. I brought you an onion as an apology. I don’t know if you eat them, but…they’re not exactly stinky, but they make people’s eyes burn and you do that, so I thought you’d like it.”

Stinkie flapped her wings and landed in front of the onion. Looking at her, she seemed a lot more like a dinosaur than she had before. She was green to the sight, but the scaling of the neck, the beak, the eyes and the frill at the top of her head all brought the image together.

She started pecking at the onion.

I sat back and watched.

“I have no idea what to do with you now that you’re here,” I said. “I wanted to catch an Other all this time, feel like a real Practitioner, but I didn’t think about _after_.” I snorted. “That’s not exactly true. I’ve been thinking about these girls I don’t like. The ones I told you about and a few others. Anyway, I think it would be a good idea to knock them down a peg. It’d be funny anyway. But I’m terrified that since two know more than me they’ll retaliate and I won’t be able to handle it. And some of the others, friends with one of them, Sophia, and I think she’ll protect them if I try anything. Not a lot of options.”

Stinkie wasn’t watching me, instead her focus was on the onion.

An idea hit.

“Maybe…I can use you, _this_ for good,” I said. “The Nazis think they run the school, but maybe I can knock them down a peg.”

I smiled a little as the idea came together in my mind.

***

The sight was useful as I scoped things out.

The people who _really_ believed in their superiority were visible with the sight, some with glowing tattoos they hid in the real world, others bald even though they had hair, and some with concealed weapons covered with blood.

More often than not, these were the leaders, visible by how the configuration of webs around them seem to centre around them, there were some relationships between people, but they were dimmer in contrast to relationships with the leaders. Not all the webs were the same, there were some that were thicker, brighter and fiercer, but there were also those that were thinner, with an uncertainty to them.

 _This will help them more than the others,_ I thought. _Maybe it’ll mean they won’t buy into it._

I kept watching, making sure, at one point, that they weren’t connected to Tammi the Nazi. She, like Sophia, didn’t use the sight as much as I did, and this meant that she wasn’t as adept at seeing indirect focus. It meant that I did my scoping without being spotted.

I made my move a week later, targeting a senior by the name Johnathan Asher. He was a bully with a group five men strong, he had the tattoo ‘88’ at his chest and his fists were bloodied. He liked to target kids who weren’t protected by larger groups, loners who were easy to miss.

Of the five in the group, two were his buddies, and the other three were hanging on either because they were afraid of him, or some because they wanted some of his protection.

“Stinkie,” I whispered. I was in the halls with a diagram at the back of my hand that turned away attention. A web stretched from me to Stinkie flared and before it disappeared, I dabbed my finger in my tongue and drew a line over my hand parallel to the web.

It got brighter and it _stayed,_ no longer turned away.

I had the lunch box out and a hand at the lip of the lid. There were people around me but they ignored me, going to their classes while others went to lunch.

“I want you to go to Johnathan Asher,” I said, another web flared. _I hope you can see that._ “And I want you to make it look like he farted. Something loud and smelly, but lasts as long as a fart usually does. Then you come back and get in the box.”

_Please let this work._

I opened the lunch box. Stinkie flew out, skirting over everyone before she dove down.

I couldn’t hear it, I was too far, but I saw the reaction as attention was directed in his direction, as mirth radiated and people stepped away. There was laughter from someone, but I was watching Stinkie as she flew up, over everyone’s heads and flew into the lunch box with force.

_That actually worked._

I’d sent Stinkie out and she’d done what I wanted. But it was something else knowing if what I really wanted to happen did. Hopefully whatever image Johnathan had built up would start to crumble.

I’d have to watch him for the next few days to see how it was going, and reinforce it as it was needed. The ripples of what I’d done faded quickly, I looked at the lines and at lunch the whole farting thing had already been forgotten by most everyone.

A part of me wished that high school was like the movies, where everyone had each other’s number and everyone would get a text when someone did anything embarrassing. Or maybe it could be like the Gossip Girl movies with Lindsay Lohan, where they had a blog of all the school’s secrets.

But it wasn’t like that and I needed to shake them a little more, take away Johnathan’s power.

I thought about it all night while I did my homework, checked any deaths that might have made a good ghost, fed Stinkie her daily helping of onions, and checked over the notes I compiled in what was starting to feel more and more like a grimoire. And by the next day I had a plan.

“Stinkie,” I said when I was close to school. “As secretly as possible, so the Practitioners at school don’t see you, I want you to keep close to Johnathan Asher, and make him fart. Especially when he’s around people. I want you to make the smell stay a while, but not so much that it’s suspicious. Come back to your binding at the end of the day.”

I opened the lunch box and Stinkie flew out, caught the wind and drifted up before she swooped low. She moved between people and they didn’t notice her, none of the tell-tale signs of a twisted noise as a fart trailed past.

Knowing that Stinkie was out there, doing the good work, was thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I didn’t know if it would work, but it felt like I was doing good. Johnathan was a bully and I had the power to take him down a peg, to protect his victims, and that brought me a little strength. But I also didn’t want to take all of this lightly because I knew that magic was dangerous.

I kept my sight active most of the time, watching webs because there was still a goblin out there. Taking Johnathan down a peg didn’t mean that I had to forget that I still hated Sophia, and that I could keep her from deluding herself into believing she was a good person.

She didn’t have the same skill with the sight as I did and that would give me forewarning and a chance to deal with the goblin first.

 _But you’re not prepared,_ I thought and I made a metal note to use some of the allowance Grandma gave me to buy myself some chains. I would need to infuse it with an element, so that would mean also buying a lighter to make it hot.

At lunch I spotted a few of Johnathan’s friends, but I didn’t see him.

It was too much to hope for that it was working.

The end of the school day came and Stinkie didn’t come back to me. I waited as much as I could, looking in the air to see her flying towards me. But she didn’t.

“Stinkie,” I said and the web flared, pointing away from school. _“Fuck,”_ I muttered and, glumly, I walked back home, started my protection ritual, prepared dinner and started doing my homework.

The last dregs of the sun were starting to disappear when I heard a squawk from outside. I rushed out to see Stinkie in the air, flying in a circle around the house. I went back in and came out with the lunch box.

She flew inside.

***

Johnathan didn’t come to school the next three days, which left me with some time to focus on why I came to school in the first place. Ever since the bullying had started my grades had dropped and getting them back was hard, and it was harder now when there were so many more interesting things that could take up my time.

But I had to focus, because all the turning attention away I’d been doing for the last few days had rebounded. Teachers were now paying attention to me and so were other students. I didn’t like the students’ attention, they remembered me as locker girl and when they whispered it felt like that was all they were talking about. The teachers, though, wanted me to do better and they were doing all they could to give me the support I needed.

And with memories of Mom being frustrated of giving her students second chances only for them to disappoint, I put in the effort to do my work and focus in class.

Sophia kept her distance, which I appreciated, and after I’d met Tammi the Nazi, she hadn’t bothered me again.

School was just school.

Normal and boring.

The weekend came and I spent most of the day with Dad. He popped out in the afternoon, work stuff, and I used the time get a start on my reading and finishing off any homework I’d done the day before. I went out for a walk in the part, watched some guys who were playing basketball, and then went home.

The next week was a continuation of the last, watching for the goblin, keeping track of Sophia, paying more attention at class, and watching some of the webs around Johnathan and his friends. His group had decreased, moved from five to four, and I could see that the third was teetering on leaving.

When I looked at Johnathan with the sight, his head hung down, but his expression looked meaner. His knuckles were still bloody.

“Third time’s the charm,” I muttered when I released Stinkie again, but this time I told her that she should get back at end of the _school_ day.

By lunch Johnathan wasn’t at school and by the end of the day I heard what had happened, apparently he’d shit himself in class and been taken to hospital.

“But you’re a stink spirit,” I said to Stinkie at the end of the day. I’d told her to make it seem like Johnathan was farting, I hadn’t thought that it would actually hurt him.

 _But is it a bad thing that he’s hurt?_ I thought. _He’s been doing it to everyone else and he hasn’t cared. He deserves this. It’s karma._

“I really wish you could talk so you could tell me what you actually did,” I muttered as I pulled up my grimoire and started writing down observations of what Stinkie had done. It sucked that most of it had happened away from me so I couldn’t be sure, but I’d told her to keep making it seem like he had a farting problem and I didn’t see how that led to him shitting himself.

 _You could ask the Undersiders,_ I thought but I held back. Three of the five Practitioners I knew were jerks of varying levels, I still wasn’t sure about everything around Mr Calvert, and I didn’t want to imposition myself on Grue, who seemed like the type that liked his privacy.

 _I can figure this out on my own,_ I thought.

But figuring it out was hard when there wasn’t any single story. Almost everyone that talked about it, though, said that he had a gut thing, that he’d had diarrhoea and that he was getting hydrated in hospital before he got back. There was some discussion about drinking dirty water, which I knew wasn’t the cause of it, and some people said that his family was poor and maybe he wasn’t getting enough water.

More and more I started thinking about calling the Undersiders, seeing the rest of their group and what they were like. But every time I thought about it, almost got close to calling them, I thought about Emma.

Not everyone was like her, sure, but…if someone I’d known that long could turn on me, what about everyone else? Wouldn’t it be easier for them?

It was just better to do this on my own.

I didn’t have friends and that was alright because I didn’t need them.

A web flared into life at the end of the day, bright and taut, almost pulling at my very _being._ I checked on Sophia and Tammi the Nazi and this wasn’t them. Then I cautiously followed the web to the front of the school.

It was a girl, dark blonde hair tied into a ponytail; she had green eyes and freckles beneath them, and she stood with an ease of a person without many worries. To the sight she looked much like she did without it, but her eyes were brighter, a bottle-green that shifted with the light, and her mouth was stuck in a vulpine grin.

“Who are you?” I asked when I was close. There was a crowd of people around me as they left for home, enough that she wouldn’t try anything or anything she tried would take longer to stick.

“You can call me Lisa,” she said.

I frowned. I’d been thinking a lot about Grue and Alec, and both of them had done the same thing. “I’m noticing a trend,” I said.

“Yeah?” Her grin got sharper, showing razor sharp teeth.

“Practitioners don’t introduce them like normal people,” I said. “They just tell you what you _can_ call them instead of telling you their names. I think it’s hiding something.”

“You’re right,” she said. “Grue wasn’t born Grue and the same’s true for Alec, for me.” She shrugged. “We have our reasons for hiding.”

“You’re an Undersider?” I asked.

“I am.”

“Am what?”

“I’m an Undersider,” she said with a smile. “The number Grue gave you is connected to a phone we managed to make work through magic. Every time you got close to calling us I could see it, I thought I’d make the leap and just come here to meet you.”

I swallowed. “I didn’t know that was possible,” I said.

“It took a _very_ long time,” she said. “But it’s useful.”

I glanced at my watch. “I have to get home,” I said. “I have…stuff to do.”

“I can walk you home,” she said. I looked at her. She let out a little laugh. “Come one, even if I figure out where you live it’s not like I can attack you or anything. Getting into your house would put a mark on my back that I don’t want.”

“Promise me nothing will happen to me on this walk,” I said after a month’s thought.

“I promise no undue harm will come upon you,” she said. “I promise that, to the best of ability and if you don’t do anything stupid, I’ll protect you if something happens while I walk you home.”

“Okay,” I said and then I settled into a walk. She walked beside me.

“So what’s been going on?” she asked. “Grue said you were dealing with a goblin.”

“After the stink bomb thing, there hasn’t been anything else,” I said. “And I dealt with that.”

“Yeah?” she said. “You finally bound something? I know Alec and he is _not_ the best teacher.”

I nodded. “A stink spirit,” I said, my pride audible.

“Of course a goblin would do that,” she said with a chuckle. I raised a brow. “Your stink spirit was probably a wind spirit before a goblin caught it and warped it. Or maybe the pollution around here has reached the point that it’s messed up the wind spirits? I’ve read about it happening in LA where their wind spirits had turned back because of all the air pollution.”

“Are there forums or something?” I asked. “With other practitioners?”

“Not a lot,” she said. “There was one a few years back, a Practitioner that could work magic with code. But the site’s gone now. A lot of people think the Practitioner’s dead. Have you contained your binding? I don’t see any stink around you, but maybe you left it at home.”

“I used a seal,” I said. “But I’d be happy if you showed me some other type of containment.”

She shook her head. “You know how and you’re about good for most things,” she said. “It’s better if I teach you something new. Your eyes look like you use the sight a lot.” I shrugged. “Can you move across the cables connecting things?”

“Didn’t even know that was possible,” I said. “I’m good at sort of getting a sense of direction and, maybe seeing the type of attention each web means.”

She whistled. “How long have you been a Practitioner?”

“A little over three months,” I said.

“And Alec was the first real lesson you got?” I nodded. “That explains it. Okay, so depending on how thick a cable is, you can move along it to see what’s on the other side. Things like relationships make the cables thicker, or attention or items of personal import, or you can just thicken the connection with power.”

“Can you give me a bit?”

“Sure,” she said.

 _Danny Hebert,_ I thought the web flared, thick and filled with a mixture of colours. When I focused on it, saw the emotions that filled it up, most were love, then worry, then pride and hints of shame.

“How do I move along it?” I asked.

“The same way that you see something that’s far away, metaphorically speaking,” she said.

I squinted, metaphorically, looking in the direction the web extended. There was no whoosh, no travel with the city blurring at either side to show that I moved fast. I was just _there_ and I could see Dad behind a desk with a lot of paperwork, his brow creased with wrinkles as he listened to someone on the phone.

Surprisingly, I could also see the strongest webs around him.

“Don’t put too much strain on it or you’ll break it,” she said.

“What happens if I break it?” I asked, pulling back.

“Enough times and it’ll strain the relationship,” she said. “Things that happen in the spirit world find a way of being reflected in the real world. Your dad’s love could get shorter or he might get frustrated of you more often.” She shrugged. “This is just postulation though.”

I nodded. “Thanks for this,” I said.

“But remember,” she said. “If you can see something, then it can look back. You’ve got to make sure that you look with the corner of your eyes. The Others that are better with connections might still see you, but most might miss it.”

I nodded again. We walked in silence before I said, “I did something. I sent Stinkie after someone.”

“Stinkie is the stink spirit?” I nodded. “Did you send it after another Practitioner?” I shook my head. “That’s a slippery slope. Generally, innocents, the unawakened, are protected from us by old forces. Messing with them means that the spirits don’t look kindly on you. Tell me this guy deserved it at least?”

“He’s a Nazi,” I said.

“Okay,” she said with a large smile. “That’s better. I’m _sure_ he’ll have done something that makes him deserve it. Is that why you wanted to call?”

“Not all of it,” I said. “I wanted to understand what I actually did. I sent Stinkie after him, you know, to knock him down a peg. I told her that she should make it seem like he farted around groups of people. But he’s been in hospital for a few days because of diarrhoea. Which I don’t get, Stinkie’s a stink spirit.”

“The lines of what an Other are, aren’t rigid,” she said. “One thing can become another given enough time. Is Stinkie corporeal?”

“She’s a bird.”

“Okay, so she’s still young, relatively speaking, still malleable, so she’s going to change a _lot_ as she grows in power. But it’s still a wind spirit, so…how many times did you send it after this guy?”

“Three.”

“Ah,” she said and nodded. “Magic numbers. One, three, five and seven as well as their multiples. But three stands out the most because of the Holy Trinity or things like the Triumvirate. You hit someone three times and it _sticks_ the third time. But it also means that if it rebounds on the third try, it hits you _three-folds_ as hard.”

“So…” I said, conceptualising everything. “When Stinkie was making the guy fart, she made it seem like he had a problem, and on the third time, he got hit three-fold and it became _real?”_

“Guy’s probably going to be incontinent for some time if not forever,” she said.

I let out a breath. “I have no idea how to feel about that,” I said.

“And I can’t tell you how to feel,” she said. “Maybe the guy really deserved it. I don’t know. But if he is a Nazi, even a young one, then he probably has bad karma. Explains the severity at least.” 

We started to cut through the park.

“Okay, so I’m just going to come out and say this,” she said. “I _really_ want you to join the Undersiders.”

“Uh…why?”

“Because you’re _exactly_ what I need right now,” she said. “Alec’s lazy and he doesn’t practice until he has to; Rachel doesn’t think about the practice like I do; and Grue’s almost usually busy with other stuff. I need someone that I can talk to about this stuff, who actually thinks about it as the awesome that it is. We’ve only talked for what? Less than an hour, and yeah, I have a good feeling about you.”

“I don’t know,” I said slowly.

“Okay,” she said. “This Saturday, you come by the clubhouse and see what it’s like. You don’t have to decide on anything, whether you join or not, but I give you something in return. I have a book I’ve been writing about Others and Practitioners I’ve come across in Brockton Bay and I’ll give you a copy.”

I let out a long sigh. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll check it out.”

***

School, home and homework, feeding Stinkie her onions and mostly practising with the sight. I’d found what might be a good ghost, a man had been found dead at a crack house in the Lower Bay, but the thought of going to a crack house on my own terrified me and I decided to push it off until after I met the Undersiders. Maybe Lisa’s notes would teach me something useful to get better at binding ghosts.

I spent half my time getting into gear with school again, and the other half scoping the skinheads and their connections. Johnathan had come back, but the power he’d had was gone, the connections around him had warped and someone else had taken his place.

The totem pole had shifted, but the _pole_ existed.

What _sucked_ the most was the fact that some of the people I thought were just scared of him had moved to the second leader without rethinking what they were doing with their lives.

All of it sort of sucked the joy out of what I’d done to Johnathan because it felt like I hadn’t changed anything. Except maybe help the kids who were being bullied by Johnathan personally, but I had no idea if they weren’t being bullied by anyone else.

As Friday rolled around my thoughts turned to the Undersiders and the fact that I would be meeting all of them together. I’d already talked with most of them, but also be meeting Rachel, and taking in all of them as a group. It was exciting if a little terrifying.

But all of that was cast aside as a web connected with me, the same colour, filled with the same apprehension as before.

The impulse was to look at it like Lisa had taught me, but I tamped the feeling down and eased my focus, moving parallel along the web and, when I found the source, made sure to look with the corner of my eye instead of giving the source my full attention.

The image was unsettling, two forms overlapping: a girl, so pale she was almost a ghost, with long nails at her finger and hair that was greasy as it fell to her shoulders; at her stomach was a mass, what looked like a baby except it was alive and wriggling, its arms pulling and pushing, and its legs kicking all to get the girl to move.

The pair were in the staff room and they were moving stuff, taking things from one bag and moving it to another, reaching into the fridge, sniffing and spitting at something before putting it back.

I quickly jotted down my diagram on the back of my hand, with a triangle at the bottom and at the top, and then the little scythes that would turn away attention. The triangles, giving the diagram direction were for Mrs Knott and the goblin. I took out a needle and stabbed my finger and I let the blood drip into the diagram.

I shoved my stuff in my backpack, got up and left the class to no one’s notice.

Nervous energy radiated through me as I kept track of the goblin. They had lost track of me and hadn’t noticed yet. They were still moving through the staff room and now stood in front of a television set up on a metal stand. They moved quickly, furtively, glancing over their shoulder every few seconds. I saw the direction of their attention and pulled back before they looked in my direction, but I quickly turned my attention back on them.

They’d moved to the coffee machine, an object that was filled with the purest of light, showing love and devotion, and did something that lingered after they left.

I was close and my heart was beating faster. I pulled out a pair of gloves and put them on while I walked, then my chain which I wound around one hand and the lighter which I was prepared to heat the chain with.

 _This is_ so _stupid,_ a part of me thought. _You should call Sophia—_

But I cut that thought off. Sophia saving me would mean she was right and that I was just a victim, that I wallowed in it.

Stinkie was in my backpack, I had no idea how I’d use her, but she was an option.

I held the chain under the heat.

I got closer to the staff room, empty with no one around, their webs messed with so they found reason to be elsewhere. I put my lighter away and opened the door with force.

They whipped around. Her eyes were hollowed out, almost lifeless, but the goblin, the size of a toddler but with features that were more animal than human, which managed to fit into a _stomach,_ looked outright terrified.

They moved, running towards me and I _froze._

They crashed into me and I fell hard. The door was still ajar and they slid out, taking off at a run. My heart was still beating hard, my butt aching from the fall and I just _watched_ as they continued to run, a lopping gait that didn’t push them as fast as it should.

_No. No. No. You can’t just freeze like this. You can’t prove Sophia right. You can’t give her the satisfaction._

I got up and pushed myself off. Using all of the practise I’d gotten from my morning jogs to catch up.

They looked over their shoulder, saw me and the goblin’s eyes went wider as it tried to push them faster. I caught up and, with a scream, I punched them at back of the head with my chain. They fell forward, tried to catch themselves, but their arms gave out and the crashed onto the floor.

The girl’s stomach was squeezed by the fall and I saw at the goblin was pushed _up_ the girl’s through and out of her mouth. It was covered in vomit and this allowed it to slide on the floor before it found its feet and started to run on all fours.

I jumped over the girl and kept running after it. The thing was _fast,_ but I was bigger and had a longer stride. I caught up, unwound the chain and spun it, hoping to catch it. The thing leapt and it was carried forward by a stray wind that smelled like a wet fart.

 _It’s using wind spirits,_ I thought as I watched the interplay. The wind spirits weren’t corporeal, more like a mist darting forward without any real direction, all of it coming from the open windows.

“Stinkie! Redirect it towards me!” I shouted. “And then come back!”

Stinkie burst out the lunch box and seeped out of my backpack; she flew out and flapped her wings, it took two beats and she was beyond the goblin, circling back, leaving pungent aroma. The goblin hit Stinkie’s draft and it couldn’t do anything as it was carried back towards me. She reached me first and flew into my bag. I readied my chain and, when it was close, wound it around the goblin’s stubby little neck and _squeezed._

“No! No! No!” it squealed, and the sound was eerily like a pig had learnt to talk. The goblin wriggled and tried to claw at me, but it couldn’t cut through the fabric of my hoodie. “You fucking _bitch_ let me go. Let me leave!”

I felt a measure of pity for it, but the girl was still on the floor, not moving, and now that the goblin wasn’t in her belly, seemed almost emptier, _hollow._ There weren’t any connections around her, only two really, one of them to the goblin near me and another that had the same feel.

The goblin’s voice was earning attention. People had no doubt heard the commotion and I could see that they were close to coming into the hall, only stopped by my diagram. Which, at a glance, was growing thinner.

I looked with the sight, saw a storage room and started to move towards it. The goblin was fucking _heavy_ for its size and its wriggle didn’t do me any favours, but I wrenched it back, pulling it closer to the storage room. I reached the door and fiddled with it for a bit before it finally opened and I managed to get through, closing the door with a kick.

It was just in time because my spell waned and people started out to see what the commotions was about, I saw as webs clustered around the girl, as people noticed the smell in the air, and heard the squeals.

“Be quiet!” I said in frustration. The goblin still wriggled, still tried to pull free, but it was getting weaker by the second and, thankfully, it’d gone quiet. “Stinkie! Come out and stay with me. I want you to mess with the connections. Make it so no one comes here.”

Stinkie did as I’d asked and she did it in a way that left me a coughing mess. She exploded out of her lunch box and spread in a cloud that smelled like cat piss that had been allowed to ferment for a few weeks. I coughed and weaved, and my eyes burned, but under the sight I saw that people who’d neared suddenly ran off, their arms at their noses.

“Fuck, Stinkie,” I said in between coughs. “Don’t affect me.”

Stinkie was still close around me, but now she didn’t smell half as bad and most of the burning in my eyes felt like it was from chopping onions. I allowed myself a few moments to catch my breath, not something I was happy about when the air had a disgusting tang to it.

The goblin had stopped fighting, getting too slow and it had slumped against the ground.

“What’s your name?” I asked. The goblin didn’t say anything. “Answer me.”

“Taintgnasher,” it said, voice deep and whiny, with a hint of fatigue.

“Really?”

“Fucking yes, you rancid _cunt,”_ Taintgnasher squealed.

“Don’t call me that,” I said, my tone short. There were more people outside, keeping their distance from the stink. “Why are you here? Why were you messing with the staff room?”

“To cause trouble, you bent-backed bitch,” it said. I frowned at that one, because it didn’t even make sense as an insult. “To make sure the trouble sticks, you putrid—” I pulled the chain and it squealed to a stop.

My mind was running fast, trying to think about everything that had happened and what I wanted the most. I wanted to bind it because it was starting trouble—and to stick it to Sophia—but I also wanted to find out if it had been sent here or come on its own. I had no idea what a powerful goblin looked like, but this didn’t seem like one.

Not to mention the other connection I’d seen off the girl.

“Where you the one that did the shit painting or released the stink spirit?” I asked. Information first and binding later. There was the chance I’d mess it up and I wanted to get as much out of this as possible.

“No,” it said. “Let me go and—and I’ll give you a trick.”

“Answer the _question,”_ I said with a bit of a pull.

 _“Fuck you,”_ it said. I reached for my pocket and pulled out the lighter. “You do that and you’ll kill us both!” it screamed. “You put a wind spirit to fire and it’ll catch.”

 _Fuck._ I put the lighter away and squeezed the chain tighter around its neck.

“Answer my questions, goblin,” I said. “Did someone send you here?”

 _“Yes,”_ the goblin squealed. “Skidmark. He’s the one who sent me here. He gave me the girl and told me to spread the taint around so they’d come crawling to him.”

_Skidmark?_

“Who’s Skidmark?”

“My essence,” the goblin mewled. _“Please._ Mercy. Mercy. I ain’t strong and the meat-bag was shielding me from the worst of it, but now it isn’t. _Please.”_

And it sounded so close to a child that it shook me.

I swallowed.

“I’ll let you free if you promise that you won’t go back to Skidmark,” I said. “That you won’t hurt anyone else or spread more taint, and that at the end of the school day _today_ , you’ll be waiting for me at the back of the school. And that if I don’t get there for some reason, you’ll…you’ll go to the Protectorate and tell them Skidmark sent you to the school.”

“I fuckin’ agree,” it said.

_I hope I didn’t make any mistakes._

I unwound the chain.

***

After another diagram and getting Stinkie back in her lunch box, I left the storage room. The goblin used other means, cloaking itself through magic to make sure the unawakened didn’t notice it before it scampered off. Between Stinkie and Taintgnasher, I was left _rancid_ and I took the opportunity to go to the showers to wash things off.

A nice good, _long_ shower and still I didn’t work all of the stink off me. Most of it was on my clothes and the rest was at my hands and arms. I was a little worried that I was starting to settle into a pattern where I stunk a lot of the time and another part of me was afraid that that would become my _thing._

But I ignored all of that because I was a riding a high. I’d caught the goblin without Sophia’s help and after school I’d be able to bind it, but more than anything, I could stick it to Sophia even more.

I found her before she could reach the cafeteria at lunch, catching her before she could go to her table where Emma, Madison and a few other girls sat.

“Hebert,” she said.

“Sophia,” I returned. The webs around us weren’t sticking, too focused on the serving bay while others cared more about meeting up with friends. “You told me to come to you if I saw something and you’d teach me something else.”

“I expected that you’d come for me _before_ you did anything,” she said, her tone cool, though with the sight her eyes were set in a scowl. She was still shadowy and her eyes still glowed, but the shape had shifted into something more menacing.

I shrugged. “Your expectations aren’t my fault,” I said. “Teach me what you said you would and I’ll tell you what happened.”

“Follow me,” she said after a moment. We left the cafeteria and found a hall that was mostly empty. We settled next to an open window, mostly so Sophia could escape the odour that hung off of me. She reached into her bag and pulled out her notepad and a pencil, and started to sketch something down.

It was a symbol, a trapezoid with the longest edge facing the bottom, a line bisecting the shape in the middle, with another, shorter line capping off the central line.

“That’s the symbol for stone,” she said. “Put it in on a paper with a circle around it, and it’ll make the thing tougher or heavier.” She shrugged. “It starts with tougher but the more you get the spirits to do a certain thing, the more like it becomes.”

This was actually more than I expected from her. She ripped the paper and handed it over, then her expression turned expectant.

“It was a goblin,” I said. “It was in the stomach of some girl.”

“The one they found?” she said. “They think she’s been doing the pranks. Her parents are being called in, but the girl’s out of it, at least that’s what people are saying.” A frown marred her expression as she said all that. “Where’s the goblin?”

“I told it to leave the school and to come back at the end of the day,” I told her. “I told it not to hurt anyone and if it can’t meet me at the end of the day it has to go to the Protectorate.”

“What do you know about the Protectorate?” she said. I didn’t answer that because I really didn’t know anything about them. “How big was it? Was it powerful?”

“About the size of a toddler,” I said. “Someone called Skidmark sent it. Taintgnasher, the goblin, said that this Skidmark wanted it to spread the taint.”

Sophia shook her head. “And you let that goblin go?” she said. “When it could just run back to Skidmark and tell him that it told you about him and his thing? That wasn’t very smart, Hebert.”

“I told it not to go to him,” I said, a little smug.

“Directly or indirectly?” she said.

My eyes opened wide and my heart started pounding.

“Goblins are a community. It will have friends and _they_ can just go to Skidmark,” she said, as smug as I had been.

“You think…you think Skidmark will come after me?” I asked, my voice hollow.

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “All I know is that the Protectorate wouldn’t like this if it heard about it. Messing with innocents is already a big deal, but going after children just so you can sell more drugs? It’s in his best interest to make sure that that information doesn’t reach the Protectorate.”

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

I swallowed. I wanted to ask for help, but to ask Sophia was…I just couldn’t.

“Good luck, Hebert,” she said after a sort, and walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

My options for people I could ask help from were limited. Not Sophia because she would use that against me; and definitely not Tammi the Nazi because even thinking about asking help from her left me feeling dirtied.

There was only the Protectorate, Mr Calvert and the Undersiders: the first I didn’t know how to contact and I didn’t know anything about them except that Grue had said they did the right thing; Mr Calvert would likely have me talk to the Undersider; and the Undersiders would likely help me because Lisa wanted me to join them.

I asked Mrs Knott to borrow her phone, of all the teachers, most of which were starting to get annoyed at me because I was missing class, she was the most sympathetic, especially when I came to her class smelling of Stinkie’s stench and the goblin’s corruption. I called, spoke to Alec and _hoped_ he wasn’t so much of an ass that he wouldn’t pass on the message.

Their webs were there at the end of the school day and I felt relieved because there were _other_ webs all around the school. I counted seven in total, one of them belonged to Taintgnasher, and all of them were positioned so I there wasn’t an exit I could use where they wouldn’t be able to see me. Above everything else, they seemed like they were making a _point_ of making sure I knew they were there.

The Undersiders used the crush of everyone leaving to get past the security guards, into the building and they found me near the girl’s bathroom, hands clenched into fists and my brow lined with sweat.

“Taylor,” said Grue. He was in the lead, still stunning to look at with one set of eyes and surrounded by darkness in another. He walked in the lead of his little group, with the others arrayed around him.

Lisa with her vulpine grin, stretched further now, and her eyes which never settling in one place; Alec with his bored and washed out expression, with his fingers moving as though he was controlling a few puppets, webs filled with light stretching out in different directions; and a girl I assumed was Rachel, tall and a little broad, with hair that was cut too short, as though she had done it herself, and an expression stuck in a perpetual scowl. To the sight, she was _cracked,_ with a dog’s head visible within her head, sometimes resettling so I saw white, razor sharp teeth, and other times so I saw wide eyes.

I swallowed and stepped back.

“Don’t worry about Rachel,” said Lisa. “She usually doesn’t bite.”

I watched her grin and how it stretched, there was a bit of apprehension in there that didn’t not do anything to reassure me.

“I’m sorry I called you here like this,” I said, my voice sticking in my throat as I pushed the words out. “But I didn’t have that many people to ask for help from.”

“It’s okay,” said Lisa. “This is one of the good things about having friends in these situations. We help each other out. So, can you explain again, because this idiot wasn’t paying attention when you told him what’s going on and he forgot most of it.”

Alec shrugged. “I got the basics,” he muttered. “She screwed something up.”

“Do you know a guy named Skidmark?” I asked.

“Yeah,” said Lisa. “He’s a Goblin King that heads the Archer Bridge Merchants.”

“Which, I mean _why,”_ Alec said, more emotion in his voice than I usually heard. “He lives under a bridge, metaphorically, and he doesn’t go for _trolls?_ Come on.” 

Suddenly, a lot of things made sense. The Merchants were one of Brockton Bay’s gangs, though they were the smallest and least organised. They had territory in the border between Downtown and the Lower Bay, with it centralised at the Archer Bridge, a small neighbourhood of rundown apartment buildings that had been barred at one point but which now lived squatters.

“Taintgnasher, the goblin that’s been causing trouble, it was sent by Skidmark to spread the taint,” I told them. “It’s here to get people addicted to drugs. Sophia thought that he’d come after me so that I wouldn’t go to the Protectorate. And I think she was right, there are things waiting for me to get out.”

“You would have been safer if you’d just left and went home,” said Grue. “They wouldn’t attack you if there were a lot of people around.”

“And that nifty barrier you have around your house would have kept them away,” said Lisa. “It’s not _years_ good, but it’s good. You should trust it more.”

My stomach dropped. There was so much I didn’t know about this world. “It’s too late now, isn’t it?”

“We’ll have to fight them,” he said.

“And we’ll have to be quick because I have a ritual to keep,” I said. “I’m sorry if that feels like I’m rushing you. It’s—”

“Okay,” said Grue, his voice gentle. “This stuff gets scary once you see its underside. Stay and watch, learn a few things, we’ll take care of it.”

I nodded, then… “Is that why you named yourselves the Undersiders?” I asked. “Symbolic or something?”

Lisa’s grin was bright, showing small fox teeth. “I told you I liked this girl,” she said.

“Can we deal with this?” Rachel said, his voice filled with the snarling of the dog inside her head. “It’s my shelter day today.”

“Right,” said Grue. “Alec take care of the ones on the roof.”

The webs of light around Alec’s fingers moved. I squinted and, in the distance, saw people, except they were not, at least not completely. They didn’t have full forms, just flat pieces that moved in the shadow of people’s attention. Taken from a distance, they looked like they were made out of a dull static, but looking closely I could see the nuance, see the impressions of what they were made off. It felt like all of them had lost their _self_ and were echoes like ghosts, but they seemed more vivid than the ghost I’d seen had been.

One moved too close to a person and I noticed how some of the spirits making up the guy were stolen, not enough that the guy noticed, but enough for it to be seen through the sight. The Other was left a little stronger, a little bolder at the edges.

“What are those?”

“Papermen,” Lisa explained. “Hard to get in big numbers, but Alec’s a special case.”

“I’ve been dealing with things like these since before I Awakened,” he said with a grin that didn’t translate to the sight. There were only three paper men close to us, with the other webs stretching off into the distance, tapered at the end so I couldn’t see their final destination.

The men moved, running up to the school building and started to climb with a bit of deft, going for the goblins on the room. Lisa walked over to Alec and touched his shoulder. I watched it all with the sight, saw the areas of attention and as webs stretched to connect to the paperman, only for them to be redirected.

This gave the papermen opportunity to get close before the goblins noticed. There were three on the roof, one of them took flight, but the others weren’t so lucky. They tried to fight, first with fists and claws, then rocks, sludge and knives, but the paper men didn’t care. They grabbed and punched and threw so a goblin crashed against the floor, not a fight with any form, just relentless flailing and kicking and punching and biting. 

One of the goblins farted and I saw the tinges of foul air, something I’d started to get used to, but the paperman sucked up the air, adding it to its static and growing more vivid, bolder around the edges.

“Caught two,” said Alec.

“Bring then in and we’ll bind them,” said Grue. “We should be able to sell them. They’re witnesses. They’ll be valuable.”

“One of my men swallowed something. He’s _just_ powerful enough that he’s making the others tough to control. I’m sending him back home,” said Alec.

“Will you still be able to hold the two?” Grue asked. Alec nodded and I watched as the paper man who’d missed his goblin went to relieve the one who’d sucked up foul air.

I saw a thread coming our way.

“Someone’s coming,” I said, but Lisa was already on it. She drew a line in the air and who the security guard who’d been coming towards us turned left instead of coming right, missing our group.

“What’s the other goblin doing? The one that you missed?”

“It flew off,” I said.

Grue looked at me. “The others, does it seem like they know we’re here?”

I checked the webs, they were still like before, watching their respective exits while some paid attention to Taintgnasher so they would surround me. I shook my head. They didn’t know what had happened to the others.

“We’ll use you as bait,” he said. “Once you’re out in the open, they’ll be confident enough to attack and we’ll take them out. It’s going to be scary, but trust us, okay? We’ll protect you.”

I nodded.

“Now go to that goblin of yours and try not to think about us,” said Lisa.

I swallowed and started walking. They were there, behind me, their line of attention centred on me, but the moment I turned a corner their webs were cut and I had no idea where they were or how they were moving. The impulse to call a name and follow the web was strong, but I focused on moving forward towards Taintgnasher and whatever was planned for me.

There weren’t a lot of people at school, a few of them were around their clubs, but they were restricted to certain classes which limited the chance they’d run across me.

I pulled out my glove and chain, put the former on and wound the latter around my gloved hand. I started to heat the chain to the point I could feel its heat through the glove.

The back of the school was an area not oft frequented. There was a thin stone path at the base of the school, but beyond it were unkempt brambles that stretched as far as the fence that bound the school. Taintgnasher was hiding in one of these brambles and it came out as I stepped out.

Still as ugly as before, but now I had more time to take it in: as tall as a toddler with skin that looked a pig’s, dark with patches of white and the short hairs. Its face was a mixture of pig and human: a pig nose, upturned, a small mouth with mismatched teeth, small, muddy eyes and a round ears. It wasn’t wearing much of anything, only a sash that showed all of its privates, _her_ privates.

My expression twisted.

“I’m here, you spunk rag,” Taintgnasher said. “Just like you wanted me.”

Without focusing too much, I saw that the others knew that I was here too. There were three of them and they’d started circling around, one was in the air and the two others were on foot, moving on the rooftop to get close to our position.

I swallowed and stepped outside.

Through much of the day, I’d thought about all the things I’d done wrong in the encounter with Taintgnasher and one of them was the fact that I hadn’t exactly set conditions. I’d told her that she should be waiting for me at the end of the day, but now that that had happened, there was no follow up. I hadn’t bound her, hadn’t given her the order that after meeting me she’d agreed to be bound by me. Just that she’d be waiting for me.

Without hesitation she attacked. She reached into her nethers, pulled out a wet clump and threw it at me. I dodged to one side and spotted her as she moved, lunging all at once towards me.

“Stinkie!” I said. “Push her back.”

Stinkie exploded out and flew around me. The air caught Taintgnasher and pushed her away. The flying goblin swooped, flying on leathery wings with a long prehensile tail that held something. The tail threw and I spotted the lighter, headed directly for Stinkie. She stopped and ducked low, but the lighter caught her trail and the fire flared, following behind her before Stinkie exploded.

Watching her disappear was a punch to the gut. My first binding and weeks spent with her only for her to disappear just like that.

There wasn’t a lot of time to ruminate because Taintgnasher had landed and she was running for me again. I unwound the chain and started swinging it around my head, prepared to catch her if she got closer. She stopped, wary of the chain, and started to circle around me.

She looked up and I noticed then that the others had arrived. The flying goblin was still in the air and the others scaled down the walls and surrounding me.

Taintgnasher started to cackle, a deep, _grating_ sound as she started to strut in a half circle. “You’re fucked now, bitch,” she said with another cackle.

“Wait,” said one of the smaller goblins, its voice wheezy. “Where’s the others?”

The answer was a dog as large as a horse that leapt over me, landed and without pause, started to rip into the goblins. They tried to run but the dog was too fast, biting or swiping, drawing blood. A pebble struck the dog and it yelped, a deep growl cutting into the air before it pounced towards the offending goblin.

That gave the others room to run, running into the shrubs while others ran for the wall and started clambering up. Shadows shifted and a hand got in the path of the goblin climbing up the wall and pushed, it toppled, tried to catch the air only for it to be shot out of the air.

The shadow disappeared and appeared within the bramble, and a goblin was thrown out of the shrubbery in the path of the dog.

I noticed the Undersiders then. Grue was different, he was no longer surrounded by shadow, he was thinner, without the muscle and his expression was placid, though his eyes were scared; Rachel was still cracked, but now the big dog that had been at her head was gone, though I could still see shifting shapes within her; and Lisa had a gun.

“Sorry about Stinkie,” she said. Her gun went off but it didn’t have the bang, nor did it have the kick. The bullet struck the flying goblin as it tried to catch the air and fly. It started falling. “But they wouldn’t have come out if they didn’t think they would win.”

“Stinkie?” said Alec and he snorted. “Nerd.”

The goblins were all on the ground, trying their best to scramble away when they thought they could, but it didn’t work. The dog stood over them and it bit into any goblin that tried to run, though its expression twisted whenever it did.

Alec’s papermen arrived, they’d still been on the roof and they threw themselves to the ground. When one landed it shattered the ground, a crack forming that tore through the path, into the building and up a wall. The other didn’t land with a thump, but I felt as a reverberation of unending emptiness that hearkened back to before I’d Awakened, before I’d had any drive, any pleasures, at the worst of the bullying.

I let out a shaky breath. I wasn’t the only one who’d felt anything, but it looked like I was the worst affected. Lisa shot Alec a glare.

“Stronger than I thought,” he muttered.

“Okay, dirt bags,” said Lisa, a little too chipper. Her grin was stretched tight and her shoulders almost hunched under the sight. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I have a few pieces of paper with some diagrams and you’re going to go into them. You don’t and we’ll tie you up, seal you in some room in this school and lock the doors so they aren’t opened for maybe a month.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small notebook, the diagrams already drawn. She ripped the pages, six of them, and put them on the ground. She stepped back.

“So? What’s it gonna be?”

Slow, pulling themselves more than walking, they each moved towards the pieces of paper. One looked like it would balk, but Rachel whistled and the giant dog moved forward and opened its maw.

“Fuckin’ don’t you mangy mutt,” the goblin said. It started to pull itself to the paper. When a goblin reached a paper it disappeared into it, leaving the paper scrunched into a ball covered with snot.

“This went well,” said Grue. He was back to normal again, with a white skull mark and cloaked in shadow. “Sorry about your spirit.”

“It’s…” I wanted to say okay, but…Stinkie hadn’t exactly been a friend, but she’d been something close to a pet. I swallowed and chose to refocus. I glanced at my watch, I had less time to get back home. I’d have to walk faster. “I have to go home.”

“I’m not gonna walk her,” said Rachel. Her dog walked up to her, she scratched behind its ear before it climbed into her head. “I’ve got things to do.”

“You don’t need to,” said Lisa. “I’ll walk Taylor home. If that’s alright?”

I swallowed again and nodded.

***

“I don’t think he’ll send more goblins after you,” Lisa said and I started a bit. The pace I’d set was brisk and I could see that Lisa was starting to struggle, something I’d missed because I’d been using the sight to look around me for any webs of lines of focus.

There hadn’t been anything yet.

“Sorry,” I said. “What?”

“Skidmark,” she said. “I don’t think he’ll attack again. He’s been around a while and he’ll have some power at his disposal, but he’s in a gang in a city with two, maybe three, other gangs that are part of this stuff. It’s better if he doesn’t use that power on you when he could use it to defend himself or his territory.”

I swallowed. “But he sent the goblins after me now,” I said.

“Because it was easy,” she said, “and you were periphery. But Grue will talk to our backer, and he’ll talk to the Protectorate. It’s already too late to mitigate the damage. You’re too small for him to attack.”

I took a deep breath and it didn’t come out, I had to _push_ to make sure it did. It didn’t leave me any bit as relieved as I was hoping it would.

“Listen,” said Lisa. “Sleep on it. Tomorrow you’re still coming over, right?” I nodded. “We’ll have sold the goblins by then, I can use your share to buy you things that can protect you against goblins.”

“My share?” I said.

She smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “You’re the reason we were able to bind those things, you deserve a cut. Just roll by, I’ll get you some stuff, maybe I’ll even teach you an elemental sigil that’ll give your stuff kick, and give you the rest of your cut.”

“I still haven’t agreed to join,” I said.

“And there’s no obligation to join us,” she said. “You worked and you deserve your cut. I _want_ you to join us, but if you decide not to, I won’t force you and I’ll get the others not to force you too. Though I might bug you from time to time, metaphorically pick your brain, that sort of stuff.”

I nodded. We cut into the park and using the sight I could watched everything around me. There were people jogging, children playing and I even saw something that looked like a raccoon covered with mud and leaves. I thought for a moment it might be a goblin, but it didn’t feel right.

“I’m seeing a thing,” I said. “What is it?”

Lisa looked. “A minor nature spirit,” she said. “It’s that muddy because this park isn’t taken care off. If you wanted to, though it would take a _very_ long time, you could start cleaning up the place, make people visit here more often. It would nurture the spirit and make it more likely to bargain with you.”

“What would that mean?” I asked. “Bargaining with a nature spirit?”

“A lot of this stuff is abstract,” she said. “It’s a lot about connecting the dots and sometimes they’re. But trying my best to make it concrete: in the park, it might, metaphorically, give you more luck? If there are bees in the area, for example, or wasps because they’re more aggressive, you could find that they don’t sting you. Or do you know that annoying thing that happens where you catch a root growing out of the ground and you trip?” I nodded. “Yeah, well, that wouldn’t happen to you.”

“That’s…” I shrugged. “I can’t see the utility.”

“Well, the spirits in the park might like you,” she said. “They make things easier for you, but if you’re being chased by something, they could make it so it has a harder time. _It_ trips more than it should, or its stung by the bees or wasps.”

“I think I get it,” I said.

“Just…remember abstraction,” she said. “What I’m saying is too hard, there might be other ways it could be good for you. But like I said, it takes a long time. In the city, there’s one person that went that route, and she could do it because she’s agoraphobic. It’s gotten to the point where the spirits in her house love her so much it started to look like a demesne.”

“I don’t know what that is,” I said.

“He didn’t even give you Essentials?” said Lisa. I shook my head, but it was more confused than anything. She sighed and then smiled, though her grin was frustrated to the sight. “I’ll add it to what I’m going to give you tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” I said. We walked in silence. “Lisa,” I said when I was near my house. “Should I trust our backer?”

She was quiet for a moment before she said, “I don’t. He’s useful, he gives us stuff and the practice is easier because of him. But…what he’s doing isn’t out of some generosity. Everything has a price in this world, remember that.”

We reached my house.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Taylor,” she said.

“Yeah,” I said and I was left with a strange feeling in my gut.

I’d promised Dad I would read up on cults and now more than ever it felt like I should start up on that reading.

***

We met at the Boardwalk, one of the nicer areas of Brockton Bay, mostly so because it was a tourist hot spot and thus was kept clean. To the sight, it was an area that was bright, each shop letting off a low gleam. I hadn’t come to this part of the Bay in the three months I’d Awakened, never finding reason to, but I saw that it was littered with runes, diagrams and magic that rose off the ground and left trails of light.

It was entrancing to watch, too see, all of it so big.

Lisa smiled. “They put in a _lot_ of attention here,” she said.

We sat on chairs that were outside a line of food shops, there were fries and burgers spread across the table, and drinks for all. People moved around, chatting and enjoying their Saturday afternoon. The day was slightly windy and a cool breeze was coming in from the sea, a diagram hung in the air, hard to make out, but I could see that it turned away some of the fouler air.

“The people I’ve asked say Brockton Bay was at the brink, once upon a time, getting closer to become the sort of place no one wants to come to, so Legend came to the Bay and got the Practitioners around her to agree to come together into another branch of the Protectorate. They made this.”

“What _is_ the Protectorate?” I asked after a bite of my burger. “Grue mentioned some stuff, that they do good and they have strict rules, but…are they the cops or something?”

“Some are,” said Lisa. “Most aren’t. The Protectorate is…an umbrella for a certain group that spread across much of the America. It’s starting to get a foothold in parts of Canada, but it’s not set yet. Basically, four particularly powerful Practitioners, Lords of their cities and with a spreading influence, came together to enforce the rules. Hero, Alexandria, the High Priest and Legend.”

“If you haven’t noticed, they’re sort of a big deal because they have Names,” Alec put in.

“I got that,” I said.

“They wanted the focus of the practice to be less…nebulous, more protecting people. So they formed a group where they traded knowledge with anyone that joined, and that person had to spread theirs, but there were very strict rules about the types of magic you could do, and how to spend your time.”

“You basically have to become a magical hero,” said Alec. “You have to make sure that if there’s a thing going bump in the night, you deal with it so it can’t hurt innocents.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” I said.

“It doesn’t,” said Lisa. “But it’s not perfect and that imperfection can screw people over. There are places where people don’t have enough resources, they have information but they’re not given power or support while _still_ being expected to follow through on their end. It means that the Protectorate as a whole has a high turnover as people are forced by obligations to deal with threats they can’t handle.”

“Is that why you’re not a part of them?” I asked.

“You can say that,” said Alec.

“But is it true?” I said after a moment’s thought.

Alec shrugged. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

“Which isn’t answering _my_ question,” I said, a little frustrated.

“Cut it out,” said Grue. “We have our own reasons why we don’t go. Personal reasons.”

“Kinda obvious if you think about it,” Alec said. “We’re getting money from a guy we don’t really know, who isn’t telling us the big picture. No one would do that if they weren’t running away from something shitty.”

“I guess that’s true,” I said.

“I’d say it’s arguable,” said Lisa and I saw her grin. Alec groaned. “But I’m not going to go into it. At least this time.”

“Did you sleep alright?” Grue asked. “Nothing go bump?”

“Nothing that I heard,” I said. “Didn’t sleep alright, though. Nightmares.”

Grue and Lisa frowned. “Did they seem _Other?”_ Grue asked.

“No,” I said. “Was that a possibility? I didn’t think it was.”

“There are some things that can attack you in your sleep,” said Lisa. “But your protections should ward them off. But for greater protection I’d recommend another boundary in your house, hard shapes against an abstract threat.”

I let out a long breath.

“I think I’d like that book very much,” I said.

“Let’s start walking back to base,” said Grue. He picked up his leftovers and stuffed them into a paper back. “Don’t throw that away. Rachel’s dogs enjoy this stuff.”

I hadn’t finished my burger and we piled it in the bag. I still had some of my juice and I carried it with me as we left the shops, walking into a stretch that would take us into the Docks. The disparity was startling, to move from a place so filled with light to one that had entire sections in darkness.

“Do you always have the sight on?” Grue asked.

I shrugged. “Not…always?” I said. “But I use it so much that it feels like it’s always on. But I can sort of control what I see so that I don’t look at certain things.”

“Tried using the sight like that,” said Grue. “But the world was filled with too much darkness. I saw people on a level that felt too deep and,” he shook his head, “I didn’t like it.”

I shrugged again. “I mean that happens,” I said. “I go to school with Nazis and I can see that once that have blood on them. Even though they’re scary, they’re not as scary as the people who have silver tongues. They’re the one with the most connections around them. But…I’d rather know what I’m getting into, you know? Not be blindsided.”

“I can guess,” said Lisa. “You and me aren’t so different. The finer bits are different, but we like to look out. How good are you with reading connections, getting information from them?”

I made a so-so gesture.

“That’s what I specialise with,” said Lisa. “Connections between people and things to get a sense of them. There’s more, but I don’t want to tell you all of my tricks.”

I nodded and kept watching without moving my head, seeing the darkness that surrounded us and the spots of light. They were in odd places sometimes, a trash can that was too bright with light, an abandoned building that looked in good condition to the sight.

There were also people around, but most of them did their best to keep their head low and not pay attention to us. I spotted their web, an indirect sort of attention that had bits of trepidation before it eased as we disappeared.

We stopped at a building that surrounded in layers of graffiti all around it, which looked bright and more intricate to the sight. It was a magical diagram that spread across the warehouse.

“What’s the diagram do?” I asked.

“Protections against most Others,” said Lisa. “Most of it is stuff above our level, but our backer made sure we had a place where we could be safe.”

 _A backer you don’t trust,_ I thought and the feeling rolled in my stomach. I’d started my reading about cults like Dad had wanted and what I’d read had left me wary. I’d been apprehensive of Mr Calvert before, but looking at all the things, how he controlled my access to the world of magic and how, until I’d met the Undersiders, he’d been the only true connection I had. I hadn’t been able to help but to be more so. 

Even _this_ being with the Undersiders now, didn’t help, because a sense of community was important to the whole cult thing and liking the Undersiders, liking their company and what they could offer me, was a way to get ensnared.

But I also wanted what they could offer and they seemed like nice people.

And Lisa had warned me of Mr Calvert, even if it was indirectly.

 _Remember to keep your guard up,_ I thought.

We walked in through a large door that was on rollers. The Undersiders first before they invited me in.

The building looked shabby on the outside, but inside it was nice. It was three stories, with the first floor being the common area. There was a kitchen with a full stocked fridge, a study off to the side with non-practitioner books, and a living room with a TV connected to some video games.

The second floor had their rooms for all four of them as well as three extra rooms that weren’t being used.

“Part of the deal of joining the Undersiders is signing a contract that you don’t go into another person’s room,” said Lisa, who led my tour. Alec had taken the first chance to play some games and grew had gone into his room to do some work. “That’s the _only_ contract we have you sign, but there’s a more general agreement that you won’t _ever_ go to the people we’re running from or use that information against us.”

“There’s no other promises to protect your secrets or anything like that?” I asked.

She shook her head. “We’re here because being part of a group is smarter,” she said. “But I don’t think anyone who’s part of this group wants to be tied down, so we do our best not to.”

The third floor was comprised of two giant rooms that were mostly empty, with a third smaller room that was filled with a whole manner of supplies. Salt, jugs of water, plants and roots; pens, pencils, paper and jars of ink; and chains and bits of various metals, stakes made with various woods.

“This is where we do the major rituals,” she said. “It’s not often used, but when we do, you have to request if first because there aren’t a lot of rooms. What we _do_ keep here most of the time are Alec’s papermen because those can be a pain if they get too powerful.”

“What are the papermen?” I asked.

“Let me get you your stuff,” she said. “There’s information in there.”

We walked back down into one of the empty rooms. She had the stuff in a duffel bag with a rune on it I could see with the sight.

“The rune’s to make it feel lighter than it is,” she explained before I could ask. “In there, there’s a few chains, some Holly, chicken wire, stakes, a knife, a metal baton. There’s Essentials and my Dramatis Personae in there, too.” I gave her a look. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s an official term. All the stuff was already here and I didn’t have to buy it like I thought, and since the month’s almost done, we can expect the Undersider allowance to come in so we can top things off. There’s also eighteen hundred in there.”

“Fuck, that’s more money than I’ve…that’s belonged to me,” I said.

“And now it’s yours, do with it whatever you want,” she said. “Do you want to hang out some more or do you want to head back home already?”

“I…” _am afraid of this entire situation,_ I thought. “I’d like to go speak to the other Practitioners. See what they’re like, first.”

Lisa smiled. “Yeah, I get that,” she said. “I can see that you don’t trust us.” I felt uncomfortable at that. “Which is honestly understandable. We don’t really know each other and there’s the whole thing surrounding our backer. Unlike most of us, you have options, so use them, see what the field’s like before settling on anything.”

“Thanks, Lisa,” I said.

 _“But,”_ she said. “Don’t be afraid to come to us. Whether it’s for help or just because you want to hang out, talk about stuff magical or mundane. Rachel’s cool, but she’s not the talkative type and I enjoy talking.”

I shrugged. No promises.

“Let’s head downstairs,” she said. “I have Victoria Dallon’s number, she’s in New Wave. She’s a bit pushy, but she’s alright. She can get you introduced to the Wards, most of them go to the same school.”

We went downstairs.

“You leaving already?” Alec asked, pausing his game.

“Yeah,” I said.

“So, are you joining or not?”

“I’m going to look at the other groups first,” I told him. “Then decide.”

“Smart,” he said with a nod and returned to his game. “And also, I don’t want to split the allowance anymore that we have to.”

“Ass,” Lisa muttered. “Ignore him, your life will be easier.”

“I could disagree with that if I wanted,” he muttered.

“But will you?”

“Not worth it,” he returned.

“Like I said, lazy,” said Lisa. She handed me over a card with the Victoria Dallon written on it and a number. “I’ll walk you to the Boardwalk.”

“Thanks,” I said, shrugging on the duffel bag and leaving the Undersiders behind. 


	5. Chapter 5

Two more days without being attacked and I finally let myself take a breath and enjoy things again. I had two books, _Essentials_ and Lisa’s Dramatis Personae, and after a cursory look I’d saw that there were a few warnings about the risks that could be faced by the newly Awakened Practitioner. All of it interesting and informative. There was also the symbol Sophia had given me, the stone symbol, and I would have time to investigate its properties given time. Not to mention all the money and gear I had.

As much as I wanted to go to Victoria of New Wave and learn more, it felt better to first practise with the bits of magic I had. So I could go talk to them on equal footing. I didn’t want to meet them and beg for any scraps they could give me, especially when I didn’t know the type of people they were.

“You made it out alive,” Sophia said on Monday. It felt like she’d been waiting for me at the front of the school. I couldn’t read her expression both with my regular sight and the _sight._

“No thanks to you,” I muttered, my hands clenched into fists. I’d started reading through Essentials, mostly skimming to get a sense of all the parts I’d missed. The sudden well of magical knowledge had made me think that the week would start of well, but Sophia being the first face I saw dissuaded me of the notion.

“Yeah,” she said with a snort. “You didn’t ask for help.”

 _“Ask_ for help?” I said. I tried and failed to keep my incredulity out of my voice. “That really is _you_ isn’t, it? You don’t just do things out of the goodness of your heart?”

She sighed. “I don’t need this nagging,” she muttered and turned away.

 _Why were you even here?_ I thought.

It wasn’t important. What was important was the web connected to me. The attention wasn’t direct, I wasn’t within sight, but it showed that I was on the person’s mind. I licked my finger and drew a line at the back of my hand to strengthen the connection before I moved beside it to see the person it belonged to: Principal Blackwell.

A low level of anxiety clung to me for most of the day. I felt the urge to redirect the line, but the little I’d read about backlash told me that Principal Blackwell’s attention might be a rebound of all the times I walked out of class. I paid attention to all the connections stretching from my teachers. All of them watched me either with annoyance or pity, but all of them watched me a like hawks.

I kept my head low and made a silent promise to myself that I wouldn’t redirect attention, and that I’d _focus_ on my schoolwork so there wasn’t any trouble.

Which made the day _supremely_ boring.

The only times I was free to read was lunch. I spent my time at the library, but since I couldn’t eat there, I had to cut that short. The day drew out until school was done and I quickly went to a crafts store where I bought pens, paper, pencils, rulers for lines or angles. I bought books that were different sizes, chalks of varying grades, tapes of varying makes and a lot of glue, some box cutter, beakers that could funnel salt into neat lines and a _lot_ of salt.

“You know it’s spring, right?” said the guy I was buying from. “No snow and it’s _Brockton Bay?”_

“I know,” I answered.

Sophia’s bag had been filled with her art supplies and I’d found a genius in that. I wanted something similar, so I made sure to make to buy a portable set of supplies to always keep in my backpack.

I took a cab back home, a waste of money, but I didn’t want to take the chance that I’d miss the time I started my protective ritual. After that was cooking dinner for me and Dad, getting some of my homework down and then heading for my room to get some of my reading in.

Reading _Essentials_ put into perspective how much I should have distrusted Mr Calvert. There was a _lot_ of information in _Essentials_ that I hadn’t know about, information that Mr Calvert had been stringing out slowly to keep me attached to him. I’d been practising using the sight without knowing the warnings, without knowing that I could get so enraptured in the world of spirits that I wouldn’t be able to see the real world the same way.

He hadn’t told me about two of the three power bases that most Practitioners had: the Implement and the Demesne. I made a note to read Essentials in depth to consider what those were and if it was worth getting them, but I didn’t think that was a part of my journey.

There were also different categories of Practitioners and I got a sense of how these categories used magic.

 _I’m going to give myself time to absorb all of this before going to Victoria Dallon,_ I told myself, because I wanted to know the right questions to ask when I got there instead of fumbling around.

Not to mention that going to some girl I didn’t know was anxiety inducing. She could just not want me there because I would effectively be intruding in her life when she had other things to do. Better to go there when I was good and ready.

I spent the next two weeks balancing between schoolwork and reading _Essentials_. Then got into reading Lisa’s Dramatis Personae and everything she’d figured out there.

There were nine large groups in the Bay and a patchwork of solo Practitioners and Others both. Lisa kept track of the solo Practitioners she could, but most kept to themselves and she had a hard time collecting information. There were also a few Others, but not many were so powerful that they had a voice in the council.

I noticed that there wasn’t any information on Mr Calvert.

On the weekends I worked on the symbol for stone that Sophia had given me. I drew it out on different pieces of paper and tracked the scaling of ‘stone’ properties as time passed. The first property was hardness, paper became stiffer and harder to tear, then it increasingly got heavier with the more time and power I put into it. But the stone property _ate_ power, which left me feeling lightheaded for a few days where I only read instead of using any power.

I tracked Blackwell’s attention and as my grades started to look up, I saw as she eased her focus on me and the relationship between me and my teachers either got better, or I just disappeared into the background.

Almost a month passed and there weren’t any other pranks pulled on Winslow, though the girl who’d been caught had stopped coming to school. I had the sinking feeling that she might have gone back to Skidmark the Goblin King, and who knew what happened to her if she did.

Two days later, on a Saturday where I was getting some reading done, a knock interrupted me and I found Mr Calvert standing beyond.

***

I was taller than most girls my age, not obscenely so, but so tall it was annoying sometimes, especially when it came to buying clothes. Mr Calvert was even taller than me, thin and dressed in a suit even though it was just a Saturday; he had skin on the dark side, the only hair on his face his thin eyebrows, under which were dark brown eyes. To the sight he was a figure with two heads and each looked at different directions; he was thinner than he was in real life and when I took him in deeper, he seemed indistinct.

“Miss Hebert,” he said, he had a very deep voice, though there was a warmth underneath it. Almost as if he cared.

 _Which doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not an act,_ I thought as everything I’d read up on cults came to the fore. Reading Essentials had shown how much of the basics Mr Calvert had been keeping from me, and I couldn’t help thinking about that as a power play.

 _Guard up, Taylor,_ I thought.

“Hello, Mr Calvert,” I said and I stepped outside. I didn’t think he would attack me, but I didn’t like people invading my space. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Yes,” he said. “I had a meeting today and it ended sooner than I expected. I thought it was worth checking on you, to give you a bit of information on the goings on of the city, particularly Skidmark. Care for a walk?”

“Uh…”

“I promise that I will do all that is within my to make sure you are protected while we walk,” he said. “I don’t know how far our walk will take us, but if you at any point tell me to take you back home then I will.”

“What if I can’t?” I asked automatically.

Mr Calvert smiled. “It’s good to see you’re quick on the catch,” he said. “I have a good measure of you and I think I’ll know when you would want to be taken back home. If such an event were to occur, I’ll take you home.”

Was that enough? I took a breath and closed my eyes, going over the wording. There were places where it felt too ambiguous, but it was good enough.

I nodded. Mr Calvert started walking and I followed after him.

“How much do you know about the Practitioners of the Bay?” he asked.

“Lisa gave me her Dramatis Personae, but I haven’t read it as much as I would like,” I told him.

He nodded. “Within cities or large enough towns, the structure of the community is such: a lord or lords sit in rule, they set the tone of how Practitioners and Others function in their town or city.”

“Are the Protectorate the lords of Brockton Bay?” I asked.

“In substance if not form,” he said. “The Protectorate are an organisation, they have equal rule between them and in combination have the power to enforce their rule over the city. Attacking innocents is something the Protectorate is strongly against and Skidmark broke that rule. They dealt with him with as much force as they could muster.”

“He’s…been arrested?” I asked.

“Arresting is quite hard to do,” he said. “One of the members of the Protectorate works as a police officer and she’s certainly in a position to make it so. But there are rules that must be followed, oaths she swore that she’s bound to and it means the process can’t be moved along. It’s far more efficient to make him use as much power as he can and then wait for the other Practitioners to close in on him.”

“And this happened?”

“It’s in the process of happening,” he said. “But for your sake, you can consider Skidmark a problem that’s been dealt with.”

I nodded.

It was a beautiful day out. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and there was breeze coming in from the sea. There weren’t a lot of people out, but the few who were out were kids enjoying their Saturday.

I looked at Mr Calvert. Both of his heads turned, taking everything in. I wanted to ask about that, but it felt rude in the same way looking at Dad with the sight often was. Which was why I didn’t do it at all.

“Why didn’t you give me _Essentials_?” I finally asked. “It has a _lot_ of useful information.”

“There is danger in introducing a person to this world,” he said. “Your mistakes are mine, in part. It’s usually the case that if a Practitioner chooses to awaken someone, they take them in an apprentice position. I couldn’t do that for you. I often travel to Boston and New York on business, and an apprenticeship would not work well.”

“So this was better?” I asked, a bit of my frustration leaking through.

“In limiting the information I gave you, I also limited the danger that you were in,” he said.

“I’m careful,” I said.

“And that’s not something I knew about you,” he countered. “You were a girl I found, one I thought would greatly appreciate the practice and I gave you that gift as I was fortunate enough to have it given to me. But I had to make sure that I didn’t expose myself to too much risk in the process.”

It sounded all nice when he put it like that, but cult leaders were often charismatic. It didn’t escape me that there was a similar thing going on with Mr Calvert.

“What’s going on with the Undersiders?” I asked. “It feels like you’re just giving them money. It feels like you were pushing me to join them by introducing me to them.”

“I’d rather not disclose my plans for the Undersiders,” he said. “However I will admit that I had wanted you to join the Undersiders. Rachel and Alec are wild cards, but Lisa and Grue would have taught you well. It would have been one less worry.”

“Sorry to ruin your plans,” I said with a shrug. “But…”

“You don’t need to explain,” he said. “We each use the practice in various ways. You should do what feels comfortable.”

“Okay,” I said. “I think I’d like to head home now, unless you’re going to teach me something because I could be doing some reading.”

He frowned and then nodded. “At midnight,” he said. “The witching hour, come with me and we’ll go looking for a spirit or Other for you to bind.”

I felt my heart start to beat faster. “Will I need to bring anything?” I said.

“Do you have any Others or workings you can use?” he asked.

“I don’t think there’s anything I can use.”

“Then I will serve as protection,” he said. “I will help with the binding, but whatever Other we capture will be yours to claim if you wish it. Fair warning, I’ll be inviting another young man on the excursion. He’s been Awakened for a short while as well and he’s chomping at the bits to know more about the practise.”

“And I’ll be protected?” I asked.

“I’ll make the same promises again when we next meet,” he said. The conversation ended just as we reached the house. “Make any protection you feel you need to.”

“Okay,” I said. “See you.”

 _You’re playing a very dangerous game,_ a part of me thought as I got into the house and went to the basement. _This is how people do stupid things._

But it wasn’t an opportunity I could just throw away.

What could I bring?

My heart started to beat a little faster as I ran across everything I knew. There was the stone symbol, which might be useful in making paper rocks. They could be light so I could carry them, but still pack a wallop. But the thing with paper was that it wasn’t heavy and the moment it hit wind, it would be pushed back.

I went upstairs and picked up the phone, dithered for a while before I pushed through the anxiety and called. It rang four times before it was finally picked up.

 _“What?”_ said Rachel, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Um…” That one word and my voice broke for a reason I didn’t quite understand. I cleared my throat. “Is Lisa there?” I asked. “Or Grue?”

 _“No,”_ she said. _“They’re out.”_ Silence stretched between us. _“Anything else?”_

“Um…I don’t know if you can help me,” I said. “But…I wanted to ask if there was a way to make something that’s light be not affected by the wind.”

 _“That’s not my thing. Turn the wind away, maybe,”_ she said.

“How?” I asked.

_“You know how to turn things away?”_

“Yeah.”

_“Do you know the elemental runes?”_

“No.”

_“Triangle up is fire, triangle down is water, triangle down with a line running through is earth, and triangle up with a line running through is wind. You put a line under the complete triangle to show the spirits which way its pointing. Draw a circle, put a wind rune inside and turn it away. Gotta go, I have a spirit to train.”_

She put down the phone before I could get a word in. I quickly ran downstairs to my notebook and jotted down what she’d, first starting with a triangle pointed up and, when I’d started to write fire under it, the page began to smoke. I looked at it with the sight and I saw an influx of spirits coming into the paper.

I quickly scratched out the triangle before it could burst into flames.

I did it again, but this time I didn’t close off any of the triangles.

I felt a little giddy because it had been so easy. I now had elemental symbols in my bag of tricks even if I didn’t know how to integrate them yet. But thankfully I had a few hours of experimentation before I was set to go out with Mr Calvert.

A triangle drawn in a circle called the spirits for that element and meant it sprouted into being. A water triangle drawn meant the paper found reason to get wet and the earth triangle was similar to the stone symbol that I had, making the object tougher but more than anything it _rooted_ it.

I experimented with both turning away the air and the earth triangle. Turning the air didn’t work the way I thought it would. I threw the balled-up piece of paper and it _caught_ the air instead of parting it. The paper turned around and flew back at me and before I could think to catch it, it clobbered me in the face.

Thankfully I hadn’t also put the stone symbol on it and it was just a piece of paper.

The earth symbol made the paper a bit harder, though not as hard as the stone symbol, a bit weightier and when I threw it, it dropped faster, but it wasn’t as affected by the wind as it should. At least inside the basement, so I went outside and tested it again and there was the same result there.

“Okay,” I muttered to myself back in the basement. “I have to find a way to integrate the stone and earth symbols together.”

 _Will that make them more powerful?_ I wrote in my notebook.

It was finally my chance to make a diagram with a lot of moving pieces, which was an exciting thought. First a circle, then a triangle pointed down with a line running through the base. I made sure not to close the triangle because I didn’t want the diagram active just yet. Within the triangle I drew the stone symbol, using the line through the triangle to rest the base of the hammer of the stone symbol.

The symbol _worked_ in a direction, but not the one I wanted. The paper was harder and it felt heavier, but when I threw it, it fell much faster than I’d meant it too. I had to go upstairs and eat some lunch before the answer finally came to me, or at least a hypothesis, maybe since the stone symbol was inside the earth triangle, it was doubling or magnifying the earth triangle’s power to root things.

Which meant another approach, one where they didn’t overlap, though I made sure to jot down that a symbol within another could magnify or maybe warp the nature of the other. I tried different things, all with an eye out for balance before I finally came to a diagram that looked about right. It was formed of three circles, one large and forming the centre; I made this one the centrepiece and filled it with stone rune. The other two were like wings connected to the main circle by lines positioned at the bottom, and within them I drew out two smaller earth triangles.

I imagined the entire thing as a sentence, with the positions of lines and symbols denoting the order to read it. I want this paper to have the properties of stone, but I want it rooted down and make it harder to move.

I tested it out and it worked. The wind still affected the paper, but it wasn’t as strongly as it should.

With that done, I made more of the pieces of paper and made sure not to close off the stone symbols because I didn’t want to be light headed again, then made myself sandwiches, carried water and orange juice, and the knife, chain and lighter that I now had. I made sure to make some seals as well. I didn’t think they would work, but it was better to have them at the ready.

At eight, after eating dinner with Dad, I set my alarm and went to sleep because I didn’t know what I would be doing, but I knew it would be done better if I was well rested.

Then I woke up at a quarter to midnight, checked that Dad was asleep and quietly left to wait for Mr Calvert outside.

***

Mr Calvert rolled up in a double cab and I stopped because in the back of the truck sat a bear with eyes that burned with fire. I swallowed as I took it in with the sight: it was made out of cloth, but beneath I could see light and life. I’d seen goblins and ghosts, and they weren’t nearly as terrifying as the bear.

I tried and failed to move closer to the truck.

“Is…is this yours?” I asked Mr Calvert as his window rolled down.

“No,” he said. “The bear belongs to Sabah.”

At the word, I noticed the woman at the back. She had dark skin, her hair a little curly and with dark eyes that looked at me with a bit of embarrassment. To the sight she sat with a little slouch and her expression seemed tired though there was a quirk to her lips that promised happiness. Around her was a shroud of fire, nothing as intense as the bear, but reminiscent of how a smoker almost always had the lingering scent of cigarette smoke to them.

She wasn’t the only person in the truck, there was also a boy maybe a year younger than me, sitting at the front. He was black with his hair cut into a buzz cut and he seemed to vibrate as he peeked to see me. To the sight he had a mischievous smile and shining eyes that didn’t stop taking everything in, but other than that he looked the same to the sight as he did to my normal senses.

“I told Ashraqat that the bear might be going overboard,” Sabah said, her voice gentle. “But…” she shrugged. “She’s protective.”

“Ashraqat?” I said with another swallow. The bear shifted as it took in a breath and it momentarily flared brighter. It was even brighter as it opened its mouth to yawn, wisps of fire escaping from its mouth.

“My partner,” said Sabah.

“Introductions can be made inside,” said Mr Calvert. “I’ve been told that the bear won’t harm anyone if Sabah isn’t harmed.”

I moved slowly and got into the car beside Sabah. I glanced back through the window at the bear at it was still asleep.

“What is that?” I asked. “There’s fire inside of it.”

“Bullshit is what it is,” said the boy. “Metaphorically speaking. I’m Trevor, by the way.”

“Taylor,” I said. “Bullshit?”

“Bullshit,” said Trevor. “Sabah got lucky and she got the eye of a powerful Other. It—”

 _“She,”_ said Sabah.

“Sorry. She loves her so much she’s giving her gifts, but people like me have to scrounge to get the good stuff.”

I looked at Mr Calvert. “I thought there was supposed to be one other person,” I said.

“That was supposed to be the plan, but things changed,” said Mr Calvert as he drove. “Ashraqat contacted me today and asked that I take Sabah with us. I promise your safety as on this matter, and I promise to do all that is within my power to make sure you are safely returned home.”

The promise put me a little at ease.

“Did…” I stopped. One of the promises I’d made with Mr Calvert was that I wouldn’t tell anyone that he was the one who’d Awakened me. I was worried that my question would cut too close to that. I changed track. “Where are we going?”

“To the campgrounds,” said Mr Calvert. “There aren’t a lot of Others unless you go deep into the mountain, but I managed to send out word to the elves that lives in the wood and they can help us hunt an Other.”

“Elves?” said Trevor. “Are they anything like faeries?”

“The lines of what make an Other are not rigid,” said Mr Calvert. “A faerie might be an elf and vice versa given enough time and the penchant the Fae have for change. This isn’t strict, but more often than not faeries cloak themselves in glamour to various ends, while elves tie themselves into nature, so much so that an elf might be mistaken for a forest spirit.”

“What’s the distinction?” I asked. “Between a forest spirit and an elf?”

“Again, the lines of an Other aren’t rigid,” he said. “There are a lot of things that can cause them to change. But if I were to put a word to it, a forest spirit is tied to the place it grows with it. A forest that has been culled by human hands, tended to grow in a certain way, will produce spirits that have a similar nature, more docile and accepting of humanity; but if a forest were to grow untamed, the spirit which forms would be wild. An elf _tends_ their forest, making it grow in ways that benefit them, they use nature much as humans do, though they leave less of a trace and imbue more magic.”

We drove around the Hill then into Richmond Heights, a road that would take us closer to the mountains that bordered the back of the Bay.

“How stupid an idea would it be if I tried to bind these elves?” Trevor asked.

“A _very_ stupid idea indeed,” said Mr Calvert. “Particularly if tried in their own home.”

Trevor shrugged and turned so he could see me. “So what’s your deal?” he said. “I’ve seen Sabah at the council meetings a few times, but not you.”

“There are meetings?” I said. “No one told me that.”

“There are meetings,” said Mr Calvert.

“Yeah,” said Trevor, “and they help out a _lot._ Most of the people and Others I met, and the tricks I learned, I got because of the meetings. But one of the Nazi bitches sent something after me because they thought it would be fun which sucked because I had to use a good Other that I bound.”

“Sorry about that,” I said.

Trevor smiled. “It’s no problem,” he said. “Not anymore, anyway. I think they forgot about me. Which means I can do the fun stuff again. So…what’s your deal?”

“Um…I’m not sure how to answer that,” I said.

“How long have you been practising?” Sabah asked.

“Four months, I think?” I said. “Sometimes time really flies, metaphorically speaking.”

Trevor whistled. “I think you might be youngest Practitioner in the Bay,” he said. “In terms of time Awakened.”

“No,” said Sabah. “There’s a guy about your age, I think his name is Marcus. I was talking to Crystal from New Wave and she mentioned him.”

“You’ve met the New Wave family?” said Trevor.

“Yeah, we go to the same university,” said Sabah. “Different majors, but we talk sometimes if we have time.”

“How are they?” I asked.

“She’s nice,” she said. “Chilled. But her family can be too much sometimes. Especially Victoria, she’s _really_ into magic and it’s the only thing she wants to talk about which…is a thing.”

“I don’t fucking blame her,” said Trevor. “This world is awesome. Hey Taylor, you want to trade tips and tricks? I don’t have a lot, but the more I learn, the better.”

“I don’t have a lot,” I said with a glance at Mr Calvert. I stopped short of looking at him directly because I didn’t want a web to form. “But we can meet and share things, I guess.”

“Awesome,” he said. “Maybe I can introduce you to…nah, it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“What?”

“Jerome and Martin,” he said. “Jerome’s pretty cool, he’s got this whole fighting magic thing where he strings his attacks to spells that make him stronger and faster. But Martin can be a real jerk and a creep.”

“Is that why you didn’t join them?” asked Mr Calvert.

Trevor nodded. “Yeah,” said Trevor. “Jerome hid it, but I heard Martin gloat about how a girl that didn’t go out with him had lost her job. I mean, I don’t _know_ if he did anything, but he seems like the type that would curse people for that sort of thing. I don’t know you, Taylor, but…yeah, it would be awful if I got you in that sort of space.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks. I really don’t want that.”

“You’re a good person, Trevor,” said Sabah.

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

The lights from Richmond Heights ended as we drove further up. Along the road there were more trees, large and dense, some hiding lights and causing shadows to stretch. I saw something between the trees, a man or woman who was taller than the trees, rail thin and holding a rusted sword.

“Holy fuck, what is that?” said Trevor as he spotted it too.

“Perhaps a greater guardian Other?” said Mr Calvert. “Kenta lives in this area, that would be one of his.”

Kenta was the leader of the ABB and perhaps the most powerful single Practitioner in the city. He had a dragon Familiar named Lung, and Tattletale’s note said the dragon was so powerful that when the Protectorate has stood against Kenta and Lung, they had decided to end things in a draw instead of destroying their power base and leaving themselves open.

We passed by the guardian without incident and steadily got into denser and denser forest. We drove until we found a parking spot before we all pulled out. The area was so dark it was hard to see a few feet ahead of me.

“Should have brought a flashlight,” I muttered.

“I have some,” said Trevor. He reached into his backpack and pulled one out and threw it to me. I caught it. He licked his fingers and dabbed it on his sneakers which I noticed glowed with a diagram, he did the same thing to his gloves which had a different diagram.

I pulled out my chain and fed it with heat before I pulled out my pieces of paper and put them in my pocket, a pen held ready in the other hand.

Sabah spent the time talking to her bear.

“What’s that about?” Trevor asked with a gesture at my pen.

“I have paper rocks,” I said and I pulled it out to show him. “Made it myself I said with an amount of pride.”

“That’s cool,” said Trevor. “Got these from Jerome. Sneakers make me run faster and the gloves make me punch harder without the recoil.”

“Do you mind if I copy that?” I asked.

“Like I said, share tricks and tips,” he said. “A lot of people are closed off about giving stuff away, at least the people I’ve met. Which can be a real bummer. Mr Calvert’s the only person who just decided to help me without asking for anything.”

“Yeah,” I said with a glance at Mr Calvert. He was dressed in hiking gear but he carried nothing with him except a gun at his side. He reached for his watch and turned the dial. The watch glowed a bright gold, the sound of a ticking clock reverberated; in front of Mr Calvert the air seemed to get thicker and colour resolved itself into a man so old and thin it looked like a good wind might blow him over.

“Let’s be off,” said Mr Calvert.

He and his Other walked ahead of us while Sabah’s bear kept the rear. We walked in a path that had been formed by hikers and frequent campers before we found a rock with a rune carved into it. I looked at the rock with the sight and it starker than anything else in the forest. We turned into another path, this one thinner, with thick trees at either side of it. The branches should have been hell to get through, the rocks on the ground should have meant I tripped, but I didn’t. A part of me thought I could walk here in total darkness and I wouldn’t fall.

We walked for a good while before the path opened up into a large alcove lit by millions of fireflies. At the centre was a massive tree, so tall it towered above all others though I hadn’t seen it coming in, and so wide it had a wooden door at its centre. To one side of the alcove was a fountain made from stone, shooting up bright blue water that filled the air with a musical sound and on the other was a floor of flowers whose scent drifted into the air and left me calmer.

“Cyneweard! Cyneweard!” a boy said. “The visitors have arrived!”

I looked up and spotted him in the trees. He was three feet tall and his skin was a mahogany brown. He wore a hat made out of sown together leaves and a parka made of silk so light I could see through it to leather-crafted shorts and bare feet. He jumped down and landed without a sound before he darted forward in a skip.

“Cyneweard! Cyneweard! Come out we have visitors!” he said and this time I detected an accent I couldn’t place.

The closer he came, the more of him I saw. He sounded like a boy, but his face looked in his late teens. He didn’t have a beard or spots, but there was an age to him that was visible. His eyes were big and round, dark green in colour, he had sharp ears as elves often did on TV and his nose didn’t protrude out, instead it was flat with little slits visible.

“Cyneweard—”

“I hear you, Ewald,” said Cyneweard as she opened the door to the tree. She was at least nine feet tall with skin as dark as ebony with gold lines accentuating her big eyes, running down her neck and pooling at her shoulders. She wore only a leaf-spun tunic, a bra made from wood and carried with her a white bow bigger than I thought was necessary, and a quiver filled with arrows.

“Greetings, honoured hosts,” said Mr Calvert and he bowed. Sabah followed the bow, and Trevor and I belatedly did the same.

“Greeting to you, honoured guests,” said Ewald and he did the bow with more grace. “You are welcomed into our home and are offered guest right. You may eat and drink as you please without worry of repayment.”

Ewald got closer and ran around us, taking us all in.

“So _young,”_ he said. “But this one smells old, fires from before the worsts of the bad things stole them.”

“Flames from a djinn,” said Calvert.

“Ashraqat?” said Ewald, shocked. “You bound her?”

“No,” said Sabah. “Her and I…we’re together.”

“She’s chosen you,” said Ewald, his voice excited. “I told Cyneweard I wanted to choose someone too, but she said no.”

“You are too young,” said Cyneweard.

“I’ve lived for three hundred years,” said Ewald.

“Too young,” Cyneweard insisted.

She was closer too and though she was close to human, I felt even more terrified of her than Sabah’s bear. She had golden eyes which shone with a gentle light, her lips were full and painted gold and silver in a pattern that shifted every time she moved. She looked at everyone with almost boredom, but I had the strong sense that if she wanted me dead, I would be.

Ewald pouted. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he said. “We’re supposed to go hunting, aren’t we?”

“There is an Other who has grown troublesome,” said Cyneweard.

“Any help we can give we will,” said Mr Calvert.

“Then let’s be off, the sooner we are done, the sooner I can rest easier,” she said.

***

“You smell nice,” said Ewald.

“What?”

“You smell nice,” he said again. “Like a moist earth that has just been upturned and bugs are coming out. There’s also a fading smell of onions and skunk musk.”

The forest was dark around us, the trees tall and dense, but thankfully the ground was accommodating enough that I didn’t constantly trip over exposed roots or slap into tree branches. Ewald was spry as he moved, with an eye for places he could find to jump from so he could swing on branches, land on roots and dart through growths that had him disappear minutes at a time to appear elsewhere.

“Thank you?” I said.

He smiled and then ran off, jumping through a set of brambles before he disappeared.

“…new,” Cyneweard was saying as I paid attention to her conversation with Mr Calvert. “But it is a beast and it has come with ravenous animals that have sullied the peace. I caught sight of a bear three nights past.”

“A bear, this far south?” said Mr Calvert.

Cyneweard nodded. “It grows daily in power, but it is a subtle monster and the Practitioners have no reason to search for it. It is helped that not many innocents frequent these parts which makes it our problem, not theirs.”

Mr Calvert hummed. “We’re looking for an Other that’s wild,” said Mr Calvert. “Tied to nature, what would be the natural binding?”

“Positive binding, we could use something wild too,” said Trevor. “But bindings like that are weak most of the times, so we have to either use something domesticated or something manmade?”

Mr Calvert nodded.

“How are we going to find it?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Mr Calvert. “A good question.”

“It’s tied to wild animals,” said Sabah. “If we find on, maybe we can use the ties to find it.”

Ewald appeared. “I found bear prints!” he said. “This way! This way!”

We followed after Ewald, which was harder for us than it seemed for him, but still far easier than it should have been. It felt like there was always a path open in the direction we needed to go. Ewald popped up again and held a hand up to his mouth. He pointed back.

Cyneweard gestured for us to stay while she pulled free an arrow and nocked it. She moved into the trees. The branches bent as she pushed against them and snapped back with a sound that was quickly sucked up by the surrounding leaves.

I heard a thwip before there was a roar. Another thwip cut through the air, then three more. All still spurred on a roar, but it quickly turned into a groan that became feebler as time passed.

“It is done,” said Cyneweard.

We walked forward into the little space where the bear had been, large and black, with matted fur and a pool of blood spread out beneath it.

“Come,” said Ewald. He appeared next to me and took me by one hand and Trevor with the other. His skin looked like wood but it was soft to the touch. As he tugged, he pulled with more force than I expected from his size. I followed after him. We stopped at the pool of blood. Ewald let us go and continued forward to the blood. He scooped it up and washed his face with it. “You too.”

Trevor did it without a second thought. He scooped up some blood and rubbed it on his face.

“Why?” I asked.

“There’s power in blood,” he said. “And since we killed it—”

“I killed it,” said Cyneweard.

“And I helped!” said Ewald. “Since we killed it, we can claim that power. I’m giving you some of it. Wash your face and you’ll get some of the bear’s power.”

I sighed before I did it. I scooped up some of the water and rubbed it over my face. My senses ratcheted up immediately, my sense of smell and my eyes in particular. I rubbed the blood at my ears and the dimensions I could hear also increased.

A laugh left Trevor, a giggle of excitement and I couldn’t help reflecting it. I felt stronger and more powerful. I stood and there was a confidence to me. I had power and there wasn’t any reason to be afraid.

“Careful,” said Cyneweard. “Too much power when you are unused to it inebriates.” 

I’d never been drunk, but I noticed the distance between how I usually was and _this._ It didn’t take away from how strong I felt, but I was aware that this wasn’t how I usually thought and that helped to reign the feelings in.

“With the blood, you should be able to see the ties around the bear,” said Mr Calvert. “Look at those which are most insistent and make sure you’re not noticed.”

“I can do that,” I said with confidence, then belatedly remembered that that was a promise and that if I failed it would cost power. I looked through the webs that tied the bear in place, some connected to Trevor and Ewald, but there was another. I followed along it but made sure to look at it with my peripheral vision.

I saw the Other, big, fury and built like a cross between a wolf and a bear, with a coyote’s ears. It prowled at speed, its eyes darting this way and that as it searched for prey. I felt it is it started to turn in my direction and looked away.

“I know where it is,” I said. “But it’s fast.”

“We can be quick too,” said Mr Calvert. The sound of a clock reverberated again and the tempo became faster. “If you’ll lead the way.”

I nodded and with Ewald beside me, we were off.

We walked for a good while, the forest working with us and with the power from the bear blood, with senses heightened and my _sight s_ eeing deeper, I saw as a massive network of spirits shifted to make sure our path was straight and direct. This reminded me of what Lisa had said about how getting the favour of a forest spirit might work, and it made me wonder about her example. If she’d done something to piss off the elves and tripped her way out of this place.

A laugh left me without my meaning.

“I think it was a good idea that I didn’t do the whole blood thing,” I heard Sabah mutter. She and her bear were behind us as we walked.

I started to say something when a web flared to life, it wasn’t the thickness of sight, but whoever it belonged to knew we were there. A howl filled the air, the two, three and then four.

 _“Wolves,”_ said Trevor. “Here?”

Mr Calvert hummed. “Does the Other know we’re here?”

I checked and… “It’s coming closer to investigate,” I said. “The wolves are much closer and they’re circling.”

Cyneweard nocked an arrow but didn’t pull her bow back. We kept going, not towards the wolves, but towards the Other which was coming closer. A wolf appeared with glowing eyes and a thwip reverberated, the arrow flew and hit the wolf in the neck. It didn’t have time to whine before it died.

Three more wolves still around us, but it didn’t look like Cyneweard needed my help to tell which direction they came from. She fired when one appeared, then fired as the other appeared.

We kept ahead.

“Only the Other remains,” said Cyneweard, “and we cannot attack it for it would anger the greater spirits of the forest. This task will be yours, Practitioners.”

Mr Calvert nodded. “How should you handle it?” he asked us.

“You have a gun,” I said. “Bullets are manmade. You could shoot it.”

“Do any of you know how to shoot a gun?” he asked and we shook our heads. “Another solution.”

“My chain,” I said. “But…maybe it’s too short? How do we get around it?”

“I could if it was distracted,” said Trevor. “Sabah. You distract it with your bear and I step in?”

“Are you sure?” said Sabah. “You’ll be fighting a predator.”

“I’ve dealt with really shitty things,” said Trevor. “Trust me.”

“I’m just worried that this might be because you’re drunk on bear blood,” said Sabah.

“Not…okay, maybe a little,” he said. “But I think I can do this.”

I nodded and handed over my chain. I also pulled out my seals. “These might not hold it for very long, but anything that could work, right?”

“Yeah,” he said with a grin.

It was serendipity that we came into a clearing as we reached the Other. It was shaggy and brown furred, its face that of a wolf and the rest of its body that of a bear. I noticed that Ewald and Cyneweard and had disappeared, and that Mr Calvert looked fuzzier than normal, maybe hiding himself with magic.

The Other noticed us and roared. The sound had a force of its own, one so strong that it almost bowled Trevor and me over. But Sabah was unaffected.

“Go!” she said and her bear ran forward at speed.

Bear and Other met. Their paws came together before Sabah’s bear was pushed back. The Other swiped and the bear shambled to the side. Before it could go on the offence, the Other pounced and bit into its neck, ripping apart the cloth and exposing its internal fire.

_Gotta move. Gotta move. Gotta move._

I reached into my pocket for the pen and papers. I closed the lines of the circle, scrunched and threw. The paper sailed and hit the Other but it didn’t have much weight. I did it again and again, enough that Sabah’s bear swiped a claw that met the Other’s face and came back with blood.

Both roared and pounced again, and the bear lost, the impact spilling out more of its fire.

 _“Trevor!”_ I shouted and that budged him. He ran around, faster than he should. I threw and hit the Other in its nose. Sabah’s bear bit its neck and shook. The Other roared and pushed back. The bear spread its legs for leverage. Trevor used that opportunity to go on the attack. He jumped and punched, the impact so hard that the Other was sent stumbling back.

The bear swiped but the Other rolled, only for my paper to it in the eye. It yelped and then roared. It got up and almost fell as Trevor landed on its back from a jump and wound the chain around its neck. The Other started to writhe in an attempt to throw Trevor off, but the bear caught one of its arms. I reached into my back for one of my seals and ran forward.

The Other flailed, its sharp claws glinting in the light and I worried that if I went forward, I would get cut.

An idea came to me.

“Wind spirits!” I said. “Cousins of Stinkie! Help me get this seal where I want it to go!”

I threw and the seal flew, it caught the air and changed direction. It overshot before it corrected and landed on the Other’s snout. All fight left it.

But it wasn’t done. The seal wasn’t meant to last and I could see how the ink on it had already started to fade.

“Draw a circle,” said Mr Calvert. “And bind it.”

“Here!” said Ewald. He threw a stick and I caught it. I started to draw a circle around the Other.

***

“So,” said Trevor. “Who gets to keep the Beast?”

“It’s too small to be a beast,” said Ewald. “A beastling at best.”

“You did most of the work,” I said. “You and Sabah. I think you two should decide.”

“I don’t want it,” said Sabah. “I already have what I want.”

“And what’s that?” asked Trevor.

“Inspiration,” said Sabah. “For my designs.”

“Then I get to keep it,” said Trevor with a broad grin. “Fuck yeah. Thanks for this, you guys. You too, Mr Calvert.”

“And us too,” said Ewald.

“And you too,” said Trevor. He finished off the binding with Mr Calvert’s help while I pulled out some of my orange juice and drank it. There hadn’t been a lot of fighting and I still had some bear blood in my system, but we’d been walking a while and I felt a little tired.

Trevor bound the Beastling Other into a ball that looked a lot like a pokeball but made out of wood, which _of course_ he did. The lip was connected together by a seal that made sure that ball was closed tight.

“I caught one,” he said. As he came closer, I saw that there were diagrams all around the ball, and others at the top and bottom.

“I think that shall be it for the night,” said Mr Calvert. “I hoped that we could bind something for each of you, but we’ve spent a while here already.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Can I get the blood from the wolves you killed Cyneweard? Maybe I can play with their power.”

“You are free to them,” said Cyneweard.

“Thank you.”

“You may also have my stick,” said Ewald.

I looked at it with the sight and it was just a stick. But Ewald’s smile was wide and _maybe_ it had magical properties I didn’t know about.

“Thank you,” I said.


	6. Chapter 6

I got home at six in the morning, went to bed and conked out until late afternoon. Dad was a little worried, but after I told him I’d woken up during the night to do some work, he calmed a little. I ate and watched TV for a bit before I went downstairs to jot down everything I’d learned during the excursion with Mr Calvert.

I now had wolf blood in a wooden cannister gifted to me by Cyneweard and I had the stick that Ewald had given me, but I didn’t know what I could do with it. I wanted to test out the wolf blood to see what it could do, but there wasn’t a lot and I didn’t know where I could find predators to hunt when the blood was used up. Maybe I could hunt a prey animal, but I didn’t know how to hunt in the first place and I wanted to have that power on hand.

It was exciting to think about all the ways I could work the power of the blood. With the bear blood, I had been able to increase my hearing by washing my ears in blood and I was a little interested to see if that could work throughout my body. I tested it a little as an idea hit. I covered my hand in blood and rubbed it into my throat.

I tried to speak and I came out as a snarl. I howled and the sound came out more naturally. I barked and that sounded _just_ like a dog which was amazing. There was still the feeling of being off balance attached to it, but it wasn’t nearly as much as the bear and the power faded pretty quickly, something I jotted down in my notes.

There wasn’t a lot of time consolidating my notes before Dad knocked and I went out for dinner. I’d pretty much missed the day with the long sleep and soon evening came. I went to bed because there was school the next day.

School, as usual, was boring, but I wanted to excel because I could _see_ how well that was working for me. When I’d first Awakened, I’d seen how everyone felt about me. With most there was ambivalence, some pity, but most had been drawn to me by unhealthy webs. Emma and her friends had made me an acceptable target and I’d seen all that work in the webs that stretched around me, making it easier for people to treat me like shit. But now that I was putting in work to better myself, all that work was slowly being undone, though there were lingering traces.

Emma hated me, it hurt to think about when she’d been my best-friend once upon a time, but every time I looked at the web that stretched from her to me, there was a deep anger I didn’t understand.

A part of me wanted to understand, it wanted to know why she looked so scared under the sight, but she’d treated me like shit for so long that I didn’t want to be around her. And since I’d Awakened, she hadn’t bothered me which was reason enough to keep my distance.

I spent the next week experimenting with all the bits of magic I had, and there were a _lot_ now. There were the elemental triangles and how I could integrate them into symbols, there was the wolf’s blood which I had the idea to mix with nail polish to paint my nails with. It _worked_ and my nails changed shape a little, growing naturally into points that reflected as see-through paws with the sight. I was sure that if I made it into a ritual, I’d have sharper nails…which I wasn’t sure was a thing I wanted but it could be useful and I did it.

I still hadn’t bound anything new, Trevor had been quiet after catching his Other and I hadn’t gone to talk to Victoria Dallon, but I felt so busy working on the stuff that I knew, that I didn’t mind them not being around.

It was on a Wednesday two weeks later that I had contact with a Practitioner that wasn’t seeing Sophia in some of my classes. Lisa waited for me outside of school, her arms crossed and her grin taut as she stared down Sophia who stood with Emma and Madison a distance away. She smiled when she saw me and Sophia’s frown deepened.

“Taylor,” she said. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” I said. I glanced back at Sophia whose eyes were still on us. “What’s that about?”

“She knows Grue and I are in the same circle,” she said. “She doesn’t like Grue, and I see that dislike extends to me a little.” She smiled. “Anyway, she isn’t important. How’ve you been?”

“Good,” I said with a smile. “Wanna walk?”

“Sure,” she said.

“No goblins attacked me,” I said. “Rachel told about me elemental runes.”

“She mentioned that,” said Lisa.

“And I met the elves.”

Lisa’s brow rose. “You were with our backer?” she said. I nodded. “I thought you didn’t trust him.”

“I don’t,” I told her. “But…it was magic and I wanted to know more.”

“That’s very dangerous,” she said. “I thought the whole reason you didn’t want to join us was because you didn’t trust him.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“But you met with him?”

I shrugged. “I thought there wasn’t a lot of risk,” I told her.

“That’s a slippery slope,” she said, a bit of frustration in her tone. I frowned at that. “Sorry,” she said. “Just…be careful, alright? Our backer’s…I don’t want to say he’s not a good person, because I don’t really know him. But he’s got plans and he might draw you in.”

“Has he drawn you and the others in?” I asked.

Her smile turned strained. “I didn’t come here to talk about our backer,” she said. “I wanted to see if you’d actually gone to Victoria or if you’ve been putting it off.” I didn’t say anything. “That’s answer enough,” she said with a smile. “Why?”

I shrugged. “I’ve been busy,” I said.

“You’re not lying,” she said. “But I feel like that’s not the only reason. I can’t help but see a pattern, because you also didn’t call us when we gave you the invitation.”

I shrugged again, my hands in my pocket and my shoulders hunched.

“Sorry again,” she said. “It feels like I’m getting on your case a lot. Did the elves teach you whatever you’re doing with your nails? They’re glowing a little.”

“They taught me to increase my senses with blood from an animal they hunted and I was gifted,” I told her. “I had the idea to put in nail polish.”

“Careful you don’t lose your hands.”

I stopped. “Is that a thing that could happen?”

“Yeah,” she said. “But it would take a long time. Elves are…they’re not the opposite of faeries. But they’re the other side of the coin. Faeries use glamour, which are like lies that the universe buys into and makes more concrete the more people believe in them. Elves like things that grow slowly into big things, they prefer more solid things. Did you see their tree?” I nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they raised that tree from a seed hundreds of years ago, fed it slowly to make it more powerful.”

“So what’s the significance of a stick?” I asked. “Ewald gave me one as a gift.”

Lisa shrugged. “I don’t really _get_ the elves,” she said. “Faeries I can understand, they’re immortal and they get bored so they cause trouble to keep things interesting, but elves feel like they could watch paint dry and actually enjoy it just to see the end product. Maybe it’s that? Maybe the stick could get stronger the more you use it, or you could plant it and it would grow into a tree?”

We cut into the park. “How have you been doing?” I asked. “How’s it been with the Undersiders?”

“There’s not a lot happening,” she said. “Which is boring. I’ve been mostly compiling the people around Brockton Bay.” I frowned. “What?”

“You’re not from Brockton Bay?” I said.

“What makes you think that?”

I shrugged. “Most people say the Bay when they’re talking about this place,” I said. “But you said Brockton Bay.”

“I’m sure a lot of people in this city say Brockton Bay,” she said.

“You’re not denying it.”

“I’m not,” she said. She smiled, but to the sight it looked strained. “It goes into my past and that is _not_ something I want to talk about.”

I nodded. 

“Have you bound anything yet?” she asked. “I know it sucked that you lost Stinkie.”

I shook my head. “There haven’t been really any good options, and I’ve been practising the stuff I already have,” I told her. “I’ve told myself I’m looking for ghosts, but…” I shook my head. “I don’t like what they _are.”_

“Yeah,” she said. “I can understand that. You could try and court an elemental spirit. But that has its traps.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Water and earth spirit are hard to work with. They’re too… _big._ You move them and it messes up the ecosystem. Fire…Have you read the Dramatis Personae?” I nodded. “Then you know about Kenta and Ashraqat. They both work with fire, so any fire spirit might be drawn away from you and towards them. Wind works, but it’s hard to catch because it’s fickle. But you already managed once, maybe you can do it again.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “But I’m not in a rush to stick to any _one_ thing.”

“Which also means you’re not in a rush to talk to Victoria,” she said.

“You _really_ want me to talk to her, don’t you?” I said.

“Because I think it would be a good thing for you,” she said. “She’s a good person.”

“Are you friends with her?”

“We talk, but not a lot,” said Lisa.

“Why not?” I caught a brief frown from her fox mouth. I swallowed. “What’s going on? Are you hiding something from me?”

“I’m hiding a lot of things from a lot of people, and you’re one of them,” she said, her voice light. But she couldn’t fool me with the sight. There was something there, something she didn’t want to figure out and it made me _aware_ how much I didn’t trust Lisa too, all things considered.

She was cool and her and the Undersiders had helped me, but I couldn’t forget that they were somehow connected to Mr Calvert which had its own problems. My house came up in the distance.

“It was good to see you, Lisa,” I said. Which it had been, even if it left me not sure how to feel right now.

“You too,” she said. She turned away while I kept forward. I caught a flicker from Dad’s web and I found him in the distance. I waited as he pulled and my heart stopped as I spotted something in the car with him.

“Taylor,” said Dad. He smiled but it was didn’t reach his eyes. Dad looked frazzled more than he usually did. He’d spilled coffee on his shirt, there was a cut above his head and his glasses were shattered.

“What’s…going on?” I said, a little distracted by the _thing_. It was small, the size of a fist, with small hand and a beak for a mouth. It had short limbs, three fingers all of which ended with claws, and it sat on Dad’s head picking at his cut.

“A bad day,” he said and he sighed. “Spilled coffee on myself, bumped into a door and dropped my glasses while I was jogging to a meeting. Work I was doing was _lost._ I decided to check out early just in case I accidentally burned place down,” he said with a chuckle.

“Um…can I do something?” I asked. “I don’t know if it’ll work or anything, but…”

“Is this your religious thing?” he said.

“You can say that.”

Dad looked around, there were people around, but they weren’t paying attention to us.

“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “If you think it’ll help.”

I shrugged off my backpack, dug through it until I found a seal and then started to move forward. The _thing_ noticed me but it didn’t move away. It just sat and picked at Dad’s cut. I covered it with the seal and it didn’t fight or try to escape.

“Are we done?” said Dad, trying his best to sound like all of this didn’t seem crazy to him, and almost succeeding.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I’m going downstairs, can I talk to you after? About work?”

“Sure,” he said with a sigh. “I _really_ need some sleep, and to shower because the cut’s been bothering me.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” I said.

I looked down at the thing in my hand and I let out a long breath before I walked in the house. I quickly went into the basement because I didn’t know what it was or what it’d been trying to do with Dad. I drew a circle out of chalk, double bordered similar to what we’d done when we’d bound the Beastling Other with Mr Calvert.

I picked up the same lunch box I’d bound Stinkie in and put it in the circle, then opened the piece of paper and dropped the Other in the circle. The thing was small but it landed like a rock. It turned over and looked around even though it didn’t have any eyes. It was entirely black, almost shadowy but with enough solidity to it that I couldn’t see through it.

“What are you?” I muttered. The Other didn’t answer. I felt the urge to bind it like I’d done with Stinkie, but this wasn’t a wind spirit and it hadn’t been changed by Goblins. I wasn’t sure, but it felt like _it_ was the reason for Dad’s bad day and I didn’t think I could appeal to its better nature. I sighed and stood straight. This Other wasn’t as big or strong as the Beastling Other, but the same general binding would work. “Other,” I intoned. The Other turned towards me. “Can you speak?”

There was no answer.

“I have caught and bound you in place,” I said. “You came against Danny Hebert, but you were duly caught, by all rights you are now mine.” Bindings were rarely ever permanent, especially for more powerful Others. Trevor’s deal had gotten the Beastling to agree to be bound to him for three moons, and _maybe_ I could stretch this longer. “I bind you to my call. I bind you to my word. I bind you to my service. With the binding concluded, go into that lunch box and wait for my word!”

It felt stupid because I was trying to make my voice sound deeper and I added a little volume, but theatrics mattered. Others, big and small, were more likely to listen if they were either entertained, moved or _cowed._

I waited, a part of me terrified that the Other wouldn’t listen to me, which would mean I would have to bargain. But the Other, whatever it was, was so small and weak that it listened and went into the lunch box. I pulled the lunch box out of the circle and pasted a seal onto it so radiation wouldn’t spill out.

With that done, I let out a long breath and readied myself for the protection ritual.

***

“You don’t have to worry,” said Dad with a light smile. It was the next day and we were at breakfast. He’d slept shortly after he showered last night and gotten up this morning. “It was just a bad day, everything will be fine.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to go to work?” I asked. “You don’t take a lot of days off.”

He snorted. “I can’t afford a lot of days off,” he said. “I’ll be fine. I had a good night’s sleep and everything’s been going okay.”

I nodded slowly. “What happened? Before the whole bad luck thing?”

He shrugged. “Just another day,” he said. “Looking over resumes and there were a few people who I interviewed to work with us and references I had to check. Then everything just went to hell and I became a klutz.”

I frowned.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he said with a smile. “These things happen. Thankfully it wasn’t a _major_ accident or anything like that. But I’ll have to run a little damage control which is never fun.” He took a massive gulp of coffee. “Which is why I should get in early so I can get started. Bye.”

“Bye, Dad,” I said.

I couldn’t help that I was still worried as I went to school, the Other in my backpack and a weight settled on my shoulder. I still didn’t know a lot about what Others did in their spare time, but I knew they could be _sent_ against someone and it scared me that someone might have sent one against Dad.

Which didn’t make sense. Dad was the Head of Hiring in the Dock Worker’s Association, a job that had lost most of its meaning since dock workers weren’t really needed. A strike had happened a long time ago and boats had been left in the docks. They were now hard to move and they were a winch that squeezed the Bay tighter as the years went on. What little I’d heard from Dad said the ships were so ruined that it would take a _lot_ of money to cart them out of the Boat Graveyard.

Dad wasn’t important. Dad’s job didn’t make any waves or anything of the kind, which was why it didn’t make sense that anyone would send an Other after him.

Unless, of course, they were indirectly trying to attack me.

What if Skidmark knew about my involvement in what was happening to him and this was payback? Or what if it was Tammi the Nazi?

I needed to know what this was first just so I would be able to guard against it, and the number of people I could ask where limited. There was Lisa and the Undersiders, but after yesterday, I was wary of that entire thing; there was Sophia, but I _really_ didn’t want to go to her; there was Trevor, but I didn’t know if he’d know what this was; Sabah, but she seemed like wasn’t interested in the practice; and there was Victoria, whose mother was a top lawyer and whose entire family was wrapped up in magic.

An anxiety settled over me and lingered for the entire day. But I had to do this for Dad. If he was in danger, I had to make sure I did everything I could to protect him, even if it was uncomfortable.

I called. _“Hello?”_ said a girl on the other side.

“Um…hello,” I said. “Is this Victoria Dallon?”

 _“Who’s asking?”_ she said.

“Taylor,” I said. “Lisa gave me your number.”

 _“Lisa from the Undersiders?”_ she asked.

“Yeah. Uh…I’m new to things and there’s an Other I’d like some help with,” I told her. “I don’t know what it is and…someone might have sent it against my Dad.”

 _“Did you catch it?”_ she asked, her tone now steel.

“Yeah. It’s small and I don’t think it’s too smart, but…”

 _“I get it,”_ she said. _“If someone’s after your Dad then they might try something else. Uh…can we meet? Can you get Downtown? The Star-Crossed Mall?”_

“Yeah,” I said. “Gotta do some stuff first, but I’ll be there.”

 _“Good,”_ she said. _“As scary as things feel, try not to panic. That almost never helps.”_

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks. Bye.”

_“Bye.”_

I put down the phone and let out a long breath. I swallowed. The anxiety hadn’t gotten any better. The conversation had gone better than I thought it would, but I was still worried about how things would turn out.

Doing the ritual helped to calm me a little. I’d been doing it so often that it had started to become meditative. After the protection ritual, I painted my nails. I’d put the blood in black nail polish which went better with my clothes than the red I’d bought on impulse. A part of me wondered if I was stuck using the same colour nail polish now, or if just ‘nail polish’ would fit the parameters of the ritual.

The ritual was still new, so it made more sense to change it now than in the future. I made a mental note to buy more nail polish colours.

Dad still hadn’t bought me the phone so I left him a note that I was meeting Victoria Dallon and that I might be home late. I used some of the money I’d gotten from the Undersiders to take a cab Downtown to the Mall. When I was there, I _felt_ something in my very core, as though I was being pulled. I followed the pull until I found her.

Victoria Dallon wasn’t taller than me, but she was certainly more striking which made it seem taller. She had an athletic body which was framed well in the clothes she wore: black jeans that were faded and yet _worked;_ a red shirt under jacket that might have been made out of leather; and thick heel ankle boots that made the look feel more robust. She wore her hair, which was a pale blonde, long and straight, and she had make-up on that had a natural feel to them.

I wasn’t even really in her company yet and I was already jealous of how put together she seemed.

Under the sight she looked the same but there was an aura to her that rippled out, it was yellow or gold, almost immaterial, but I saw how it wrapped around certain people.

She noticed me and smiled. I swallowed and closed the distance.

“Hey,” she said with a smile. “I’m Victoria.”

“Taylor,” I said, a bit nervous. “Sorry if I took you away from something important.”

“This was more important than my plans for today,” she said. “Uh…come with me and we’ll talk over food. My day’s been a little busy and I forgot to eat.”

I nodded and followed her. We went into a cafe and found a table. She ordered some food while I just got some juice, then when our server was gone, she pulled out a piece of paper with a diagram. She pulled out a pen and closed some of the spaces. The paper flared.

“You’re turning away attention?” I asked. The diagram was more complicated than mine.

She nodded. “It’s more complicated than it needs to be,” she said. “But it’s something I’ve picked up and I was, metaphorically, dying to try it out.”

I nodded. I took a breath and reached into my backpack. I pulled out the lunch box and put it on the table.

“Spirit,” I said. “Other. Come out on the lunch box and wait for my next command.” The lid popped open and the Other stepped out onto the table. It looked around, but it didn’t move beyond that. “That’s the thing I found on my Dad. I think it might be linked to a spell of bad luck he experienced.”

“Yep, that’ll do it,” she said. “That right there is a hex, or a jinx.”

“How can you tell?” I asked.

“The ghostly quality is sign that it’s abstract, a spirit in some capacity,” she said. “This is boiling things down a _lot,_ but the darker colours are often linked to badness or ill will. If it was something harmless it might be another colour. It doesn’t look too big or too smart so it’s not a curse, something smaller.”

“It can’t talk,” I said. “Stinkie, a stench spirit I had, couldn’t talk too, but at least she seemed smart.” Victoria was smiling. “What?” I asked.

“Stinkie?” she said.

I blushed and shrugged. “I’m bad at coming up with names,” I told her.

“Most people don’t name nameless spirits,” she said. “It gives them a little more power, a little more weight in the world. But the name you give a spirit sort of sets the tone for what it’s going to be like. Did Stinkie leave or is she bound by someone else?”

I shook my head. “A goblin threw fire at her,” I said. “Skidmark sent them after me.”

“Oh,” she said.

“Oh?”

“You’re the reason things have been…hectic, lately.” My expression flickered and she noticed. “Oh, that’s not to say it’s your fault, just that you played a role in everything even if you weren’t the inciting incident. Anyway, it’s good that this is happening. Things start to fall apart if we let people mess with innocents and Skidmark was caught before he could do a _lot_ of bad. Now he’ll be dealt with and, hopefully, the gangs will be less powerful for all the power they have to expand.”

“That’s good, I guess,” I said. I looked at the hex. “I’m a little scared that this might be him.”

“Skidmark works mostly with Goblins,” she said. “There are other Practitioners in the Merchants, Squealer and Mush. But the former works a lot with gremlins and the latter…the last time I heard anything about him was that he’d holed up at the landfill. Probably working with the spirit there.”

“There’s a spirit at the landfill?”

“There’s are spirits in a lot of places,” she said. “There’s a spirit that works with Mayor Christner. He’s innocent but his son isn’t, and his daughters will be awakened soon. There’s the Man in Blue which…he’s problematic, and the Spirit of the Docks, though that one’s turned ugly and stays in the Boat Graveyard.”

Victoria stopped and glanced back. I followed her web of attention to see our server. Our conversation went silent as we waited for her food and my juice to be served. I really would have appreciated if they’d brought the juice first, but I didn’t say anything. When she was gone we continued.

“Do you know how to follow ribbons?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“I think you could be able to use the spirit to do that unless whoever it is has methods to block you,” she said. “Have you tried that?”

“How? The last time I did that, it was with a bear and I used its blood.”

“Bear?” she said.

“Yeah. Up at the campsites,” I told her. “There was a Beastling Other there that Cyneweard and Ewald had problems with and I helped them get it.” 

“Oh, wow,” she said. “Did you bind the Other?”

“A guy I know did,” said. “Trevor.”

She frowned. “Is he still hanging out with Martin and Jerome? Because those guys are creeps.”

“He mentioned that,” I said. “And he warned me against them, but I don’t know if he still hangs out with them.”

She nodded. “You can just take the spirit and _use_ it,” she said. “You shouldn’t tie your mind on the physical so much with this stuff, the abstract matters a lot. When you bound this little guy, you established a connection, so it’s easier for you to interact with him. But always have your guard up, most Others aren’t as small as this guy and they’re just _waiting_ for the chance to take power in some way. If you sent this guy against someone too and they blocked him, they could send him back and that would be tough.”

“Okay,” I said.

I let out a breath and then reached forward. I took the hex. It wasn’t heavy and it broke a little with the contact. I focused on it and used the sight to see the webs which stretched around it. The strongest was the one from me to the hex, then there were others which were frail and fading. The second strongest belonged to Dad, and it snapped as I followed it to its destination.

I followed five more, but they were equally flimsy, nothing that told me there was a strong emotional connection to any of the persons involved. Signs of places it had gone, none where it had _stayed._

I pulled back and shook my head. “I don’t see anything and I don’t think it’s blocked.”

“Then…this spirit might have been doing what felt natural to it,” she said. “Before you awakened, do you ever remember just having an awful day out of nowhere for no good reason?” I nodded. “Well, stuff like this guy are responsible for that. Sometimes they’re sent by people, but other times, most of the time, it’s because someone needs to have bad luck so the world is more balanced.”

“More balanced?” I said and there was more anger in my voice than I expected.

Victoria’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what I said wrong.”

“I…” the words died in my throat.

My Mom had died and Dad had become different. Shortly after dealing with that, when things had started to look up again, Emma had suddenly changed. We’d gone to high school and she’d been _horrible._ Then things had picked up again, a bit of good luck, only for me to get shoved in a locker filled with filth.

It was _galling_ to hear that all of that shit could have been happening to me for a _reason._ That the world had wanted balance and it had gotten that by grounding me into the dirt.

“I’m…gonna go,” I said and my stomach tossed and turned. “Jonah. Go back into the lunch box.”

Jonah listened and the lid snapped shut after him.

“Wait,” said Victoria. “Um…maybe we can meet up again. Maybe you don’t want to join the Wards, but my sister, cousin and I have been talking to them about dealing with something _big_ and you don’t need to join to get in on it. _W_ e could teach you more about the practice if you came along.”

“Um…”

 _“Please?”_ she said. “Having more people would help. It’s something we’ve been talking about with some Practitioners in Portsmouth and Manchester, and the Wards in Boston. They’ve already started and given us a _lot_ to work with. It’ll maybe be fun if you like magic, but it will keep a lot of people from getting drawn in by the scary stuff.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“A game,” she said. “A trip into a place a little to the left of our reality. It’s a set of instructions called _How to Go to a Friend’s House._ It’s stupid name, I know, but that’s probably why some people try it out. A few people have disappeared because of it. It’s not so big that the Protectorate have to deal with it, but solo Practitioners are worried it might grow in smaller towns and we decided to run through it so many times it doesn’t have power in the end.”

“This game is hurting people?” I asked.

“People are disappearing,” she said. “No one’s after your Dad. He doesn’t need any help, but these people do.”

I took a breath, held it and then nodded. “Can invite Trevor?” I asked. “He might like something like this.”

“Sure,” she said.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll meet with your friends.”

“Awesome,” she said and I couldn’t help but hear relief in her tone. She pulled out a card with her address and handed it over.

***

It was a thought in my mind as I got home. It was heavy and shifted so I couldn’t shrug it off, that there indeed was such a thing as fate and that putting my family through hell was a way to balance the universe.

I thought about Mom and how she’d died, the accident, was that her fault or were spirits involved that had made things that much worse? I thought about how Emma had turned on me, had that been because of what had been going on with her life, or had it been the universe seeing balance? What she, Sophia and Madison had done, the bullying campaign, was that all the universe?

“What’s going on, Taylor?” Dad asked as we watched TV. There was a show on tonight, one we both enjoyed, but it was background noise to my internal turmoil. “You seem out of it.”

I shrugged. “I’m just…thinking about why bad things happen, I guess?” I said. “About the bad stuff that happens to us?”

“Is this about the bad luck?” Dad asked. “Because today was a good day. I managed to fix most of what I messed up yesterday. Work has piled up, but I’m sure I’ll get that sorted by the end of the week.”

I took a deep breath, held it and then let it out in a rush.

“It starts with that,” I said. “But…” I shrugged and shook my head. “Never mind, Dad, it’s just something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Okay,” he said and he sighed. “Your Mom would know the perfect thing to say right now.” I gave him a look. He still didn’t like talking about Mom. My gaze slipped and I saw him with the sight, how big his eyes were and the tears that feel like waterfalls, beneath that was an angry beast bound in heavy chains. I quickly pulled back. “Something that would have helped you through whatever you’re dealing with. I’m…sorry I can’t be that for you.”

I shrugged. “You’re not Mom, Dad,” I said. “But you’re a good Dad.”

He smiled. “I have a present for you,” he said. He got up and walked upstairs, when he got back, he had a box. “Your phone. I know I said I’d buy it a while back, but…” He let out a breath. “Anyway it’s here now.”

“It’s a smartphone,” I said as I took it. “I thought you’d buy me a burner or something.”

He shrugged. “You have more friends now,” he said. “I thought you’d want to get in on the texting all the kids do nowadays.”

“I don’t think I’ll be into texting,” I said. “But I’ll be able to take pictures and that’s awesome.”

He smiled. “Just…be careful with it, okay?” he said. “Don’t text while you’re walking, especially when you’re next to traffic. Keep your eyes around you so you don’t get taken off guard.”

“I’ll be careful,” I said.

He gave me a satisfied nod. “Anyway, you want to tell me how you know Victoria Dallon?” he asked. “I didn’t think you two hung out in the same circles.”

“We…uh…she’s in the practice like me,” I said. Which was true and vague enough that Dad would think of it as the Wicca thing as he did with everything else. He seemed surprised by that. “Lisa told me to talk to her, get some perspective. I’m going to be meeting her tomorrow, after school, maybe I’ll be home late?”

“Is this you asking for permission?” he asked. I shrugged. “We never established curfew, did we? I don’t think you’ve ever needed one. Um…let’s say ten on a school night?”

“Ten on a school night,” I said.

Dad snorted. “You’re your mother’s daughter,” he said and he missed that I hadn’t agreed to anything.

But my thoughts went back to the spirits, the misfortune and the balance of the universe as I lay down to sleep. I thought about everything I knew and how to make sense over everything. There was karma, which wasn’t about justice more than about being _just._ Breaking your word, breaking guest right or being a bad host earned bad karma. There were other things, attacking someone who didn’t deserve it, attacking innocents or attacking someone without telling them could also earn bad karma.

People with bad karma found that the universe worked against them, it opened them up to bad things, like Stinkie’s influence had been able to _stick_ on Johnathan.

Maybe that was the balance?

But if so, did my family have bad karma?

How could they when Mom and Dad weren’t bad people? My grandmother on my Mother’s side was a bit of a snob, she wasn’t rich or anything, but she was of a higher social class and she hadn’t liked it when Mom had married Dad. But she wasn’t a bad person. And my grandparents on Dad’s side of the family had worked in the Docks when they’d still been a thing, Grandpa Dean had driven the Ferry before it’d closed, and Grandma Mable had worked for the union like Dad.

Why did we deserve all the bad things that happened to us?

School the next morning was a slog. I didn’t do a good job of focusing and I almost broke the promise to myself not to use magic to skip. I called Trevor at lunch and told him about meeting with Victoria and how she’d invited me to a thing. I texted him the address and he sent a thumbs up emoji.

I was relieved as school ended and I went back home. I prepared for the ritual, did it, filled my backpack with anything I thought I’d need, Jonah and Ewald’s stick even if I wasn’t sure I’d need it, and then caught a cab that took me up the Hill to the homes there. It was a night nice area, with houses that were freshly painted, all with neatly trimmed lawns. Victoria’s house wasn’t the biggest in her street, but it was bigger than mine and better kept.

The door opened before I could reach it and a girl opened who wasn’t Victoria. She was a little shorter, with freckles that covered all of her face. To the sight she looked the same, except her hands were covered by gauntlets of bone and she wore a crown of bone that rode up to massive points, the crown dug into her skin hard enough that it drew blood, and the red ran it rivulets that framed her eyes like tears.

“Hey,” she said. “Taylor?”

“Um, yeah,” I said.

“Amy,” she said. “Come in.”

“Thanks,” I said as I walked in. The place was normal looking though there were a few runes put up in places, very likely for protection.

“Uh…you’re a little early,” she said. “You and Trevor are the only people who’ve gotten here, yet.”

“Oh, sorry,” I said.

“It’s fine,” said Amy. She walked past me and I followed. “Vicky’s downstairs with Trevor, she wants to see his Other and Trevor wanted to get the magic started.”

“Trevor’s…enthusiastic about this,” I said.

“So’s Vicky,” she said. We reached a door down the hall and we stepped in. It led to a thin staircase with a railing to one side, and beneath I saw a basement that was twice as large as it was supposed to be. “Demesne,” Amy explained, a bit of boredom in her voice. “You know what that is, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I read about it, but I haven’t seen one before.”

“It’s our Dad’s,” she said. “But he’s fine if we use it to practice.”

On one end there was a bookcase filled with all sorts of books, there were tables and chairs with trinkets and jars filled with liquids and others filled with blood, runes under the blood. There was a doll behind a case with a diagram around it, a silver music box with its own diagram and an orb that was cast over with fog. There were seven tables spread out, three of them used and one of them surrounded by a diagram that meant I couldn’t see anything on the table.

Of the three I could see, one was covered in books and papers and implements, while another had a similar set up, though it has a quarter of the books and it was neater. To the sight, the messier desk glowed with spirits to show that its users almost lived there. The last was a table filled with food and drink.

Trevor and Victoria were at the centre of the basement, inside a large, cleared space, a circle in front of them and the Beastling Other out of its pokeball.

“Vicky,” said Amy as she suddenly stopped. “Gotta head up. Taylor’s here.”

Victoria looked up from her conversation and smiled brightly.

Amy shuffled past me. I got down and reached them. Trevor had a bright grin as he gave me a fist bump. This was the second time we’d met and yet he seemed more familiar.

“Good to see you,” said Victoria. “How are you after yesterday?”

“Uh…it’s complicated,” I said.

“Well, I’m here if you want to talk about anything,” she said.

I shrugged. “What were you guys talking about?” I asked as I looked at the Beastling Other. Its eyes were those of a wolf but they were red. The Other couldn’t talk, it was too feral, but there was intelligence in its eyes.

“Mostly about what made this guy come this far south,” said Trevor.

Victoria nodded. “Spirits like these don’t like being in places too close to civilisation,” she said. “They run rampant up north, where there are tracts of nearly undisturbed wildlife, so if it came here, there must be a lot going on up north.”

 _“Way_ above anything I pay attention to,” said Trevor. “I wanted to know if you can maybe help me with a better binding because some of this guy is leaking out from the pokeball and raccoons are starting to be a problem in my area.”

“Where do you live?” Victoria asked.

“At the Trainyard,” he said. The Trainyard was a long stretch of neighbourhood near the abandoned train yard, the very same one Alec had taken me when we’d gone looking for a ghost.

“That might be a problem,” said Victoria. “Some goblins have started to live in the abandoned train yard and if there’s food around, you can bet more of them will come.”

“Someone say goblins?” a guy said. I looked up to see him, a Hispanic guy, tall and lean, with rich brown skin and long, black hair. From the looks of it, he’d just come from the gym because he was still wearing his baseball gear and carried a duffel bag. To the sight, he was covered entirely in blood, thick and clumpy, but it slid off him and left a trail wherever he walked.

“Yeah,” said Victoria. “I’m a little worried about a third warren opening up at the Trainyard.”

“If another one opens, we’ll have to worry about being a _goblin_ town,” said the guy. He looked at me, normal eyes beyond a blood covered face. He smiled to reveal teeth darkened by blood. “Hey.”

“Oh, fuck,” said Victoria. “I forgot. Taylor, this is Carlos and the blood you’re probably seeing is blood that was freely given and it’s used for protection.”

 _“Dios mio,”_ said Carlos. “Sometimes I forget about that. It probably looks freaky, doesn’t it?”

I swallowed. “The people who I’ve seen that have blood on their hands, it’s because they’ve done things. Most of them,” I added, thinking about Amy. 

“Well, I haven’t,” he said. “My family’s cursed so this helps so the curse can’t sniff me out.”

“Oh wow,” said Trevor. “That’s a _lot_ of blood.”

“It’s a big curse,” said Carlos. “My Dad came to America thinking he’d escape it, but it found us.” He smiled. “But that’s not something I want to talk about today. I can’t do anything about it yet, so I bathe in blood.”

“Like a _tub_ fool of blood?” said Trevor. “Because the imagery of that is fantastic.”

“I mean it’s _diluted,”_ said Carlos. “Do you have any idea how many deals I’d have to make if I wanted to get that much blood every day?” He frowned. “I think I know you, you’re the guy that hangs out with Jerome and Martin. You know what they did last Halloween, right?”

“I wasn’t a part of that,” Trevor said quickly. “And when I heard about it, I cut ties.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“Those guys made a haunted house but filled with Others,” said Victoria. “It takes a _lot_ for innocents to see through the veil, and Halloween has special rules around it so they could do some shit without consequences.”

“They scared a lot of people hard enough that that fear left something,” said Carlos. “The people were left _lesser_ and those fucks collected all of that to make something, maybe a wraith or an incarnation of fear or something.”

“What sucks is that they’re _really_ smart,” said Victoria. “But they choose to use that to fuck with people instead of doing stuff that matters. Like that…” she sighed, “pokeball, I haven’t looked at in detail, but they strung together different bits of sealing techniques to make it work. There’s an Arabic binding poem, a seal at the back with a lock at the front, and the wood they used I’m sure they got from the elves. They could achieve _so_ much. They could broaden the collective knowledge of humanity and push us to a new golden age, but nope, they just fuck around doing stupid shit like using a luck spirit to win a gaming tournament.”

“You guys really don’t like them,” I said.

“They’re cool when you first meet them,” said Carlos. “But then they let you know who they are and you’re left disgusted that you bought into it.”

“Yeah,” Trevor said with a sigh. “But they’re approachable. Sorry, but…the rest of you are standoffish.”

“You’re not the first person who’s said that,” said Victoria.

“In our defence, this world draws in a lot of power-hungry people,’ said Carlos.

Another boy stepped in, maybe fifteen, carrying a backpack.

“New people,” said the boy in greeting.

“This is my cousin Eric,” said Victoria. “Eric, Taylor and Trevor.”

“Yo,” said Trevor.

“Hey,” Eric said with a wave. “You’re the guy that hung out with Jerome and Martin, right?”

“Is that what I’m going to be known for?” Trevor muttered. “Because I’m multifaceted. I’m also the guy who made a ghost bounce back after the Nazis sent it to me.”

“Oh, really?” said Eric.

“Yeah,” said Trevor. “And I’d rather be known for that than the other thing.”

“The Nazis suck, right?” said Eric.

“Yeah,” said Trevor.

Eric looked at me expectantly.

“They do,” I said. After a moment, “Why did that feel like a test?”

“Because it’s good to know where we stand,” he said. “I don’t want to be friends with some secret piece of shit.”

“Whoa there,” said Victoria. “Maybe dial that back?”

“Or maybe not?” said Trevor. “It’s not said enough, but fuck Nazis.”

“Fuck Nazis,” said Eric.

Carlos grinned. “Fuck Nazis,” he put in.

Two people came in from upstairs. Victoria’s eyes filled with light. “Fuck Nazis!” she shouted and gestured for them to roll on.

“Fuck Nazis!” one of the boys shouted back, a red head.

“Fuck Nazis,” his friend said, not a shout as much.

Everyone, I noticed, was looking at me. “Fuck Nazis,” I said. Too many people were smiling. “What was that?”

“A curse, maybe?” said Victoria. “Similar to how you invoke during a seance.”

“What will it do?” I asked.

“No idea,” said Victoria. “No idea if it’ll do anything to be honest, but seven people and seven power sources so it’s bound to _something._ Taylor and Trevor, these guys are Dean and Dennis.”

“I’m Dennis,” said the red head.

“Amy said she’s been down in a bit,” said Dean as he sidled up beside Victoria. He kissed her on the cheek. She smiled. “Chris was just behind us and she’s waiting for him.”

“This is everyone?” I asked. “The Wards?”

“Not everyone,” said Carlos. “Chris is coming. I’ve got a younger brother and he’s newly awakened, but I don’t want him to take part in this because he’s too eager. There’s also Missy and Dinah, same deal for them. They’re too young.”

“Hey,” said Dennis. “Aren’t you that kid that—”

“Nope,” said Trevor. “No. No. Don’t want that to stick. I’m just me.”

“Okay,” said Dennis. “I see that I pushed a button. Whose Other is that?”

“Mine,” Trevor said with all the confidence. “For now.”

“Nice,” said Dennis.

Amy came in with another boy. There were a _lot_ of boys who were practitioners, I noticed.

“Chris,” said Carlos. “Taylor and Trevor.”

The boy waved.

“We’re all here,” said Victoria. She went to the messy table and picked up sheets of paper that’d been printed out. She handed them out to each of us. On them were a list of instructions, directions to get to a friend’s house where the person would be royally rewarded. “This is what we’ll be dealing with hopefully in two weeks’ time after some of the other Practitioners have had their go at the game. In that time, I hope that we’ll teach our newest members—”

“I’m not a member of anything,” I quickly interrupted, which earned me the attention of the others. I almost sunk. “Sorry, but…I don’t want to be a part of any teams right now. I’m just…I’m here.”

“Okay,” said Victoria. “I’m hoping we’ll teach Taylor and Trevor a few things so, if they decide they want to, they can help us when we go through the game.”

“So what’s this powwow going to be about?” asked Dennis.

“Weld and his Wards went through the game last night,” said Victoria. “They should be back by now. We’ll make a magical call and see what they had to say, things they picked up. Then I was thinking that maybe we could take a trip into an _Other_ place, maybe the spirit world? Taylor has a hex and maybe we could help her give it power.”

“The Ruins are the best place for that,” said Dennis.

“You would know,” said Victoria. “So you can lead that, as long as I’m not stepping on toes,” she asked Carlos.

“Dennis is old enough to be able to take care of himself,” he said. “If he agrees, then that’s that.”

“Good,” said Victoria. “Let’s start on drawing the diagram for the call. Chris, can we talk before that starts about designs? I want to make sure the picture is clear this time.”

“Sure,” said Chris. He walked over to the table filled with food and grabbed a sandwich. Seeing that that was open, Trevor followed shortly after.

Dennis groaned. “So _this_ is why you invited so many people, so we could be your grunts.”

“Shut up,” said Carlos. “It’ll be fun.”

“Maybe,” said Dennis. He turned to me. “While the nerds are talking, want me to help you through a diagram to push things together?”

“That’d be fantastic, thanks,” I said.

“Let’s get a table,” he said.

We walked over. I pulled out my books and he did the same. I noticed that people around me were doing the same. Trevor, Carlos and Eric were discussing the Beastling Other, while Chris, Dean and Victoria were talking over the diagram for the call. The only person who seemed like they weren’t talking to anyone was Amy, she stood with Victoria’s group, but there was a bit of distance from them as the others Victoria and Chris got lost in conversation, while Dean kept close to Victoria.

“Okay,” said Dennis and I turned away from that to focus on the diagram he had open, three circles, two large at either side and one at the centre, smaller than the rest, connected by two pipe-lines with words, symbols and diagrams, one line thicker than the other. “How much do you know about shapes?”

“The bare minimum,” I said.

He nodded. “We’ll start by taking in the shapes,” he said. “You can change this around with what you’re working on.” He pointed. “This shows that it’s mostly about aspects of time, but you can make it whatever you want if you know the language. Hopefully I’ll at least give you the simple stuff.”

“Anything you can,” I said.

And he started his explanation.


	7. How to Get to a Friend's House

  1. Bring a gift. It has been a long time and the Friend might not recognise you, but a gift warms even the coldest of hearts, and the Friend has grown quite cold from their solitude.
  2. Come with an appetite, for a meal will lie in wait.
  3. Travel should begin at dawn. The Friend is not one to be awoken too early nor disturbed too late. They sleep, you see, and they are quick to ire if they are jolted from their slumber.
  4. The road should be straight and the drive sedate. The carriage should be filled with song to fill the soul with mirth and laughter, if you are accompanied by other friends, the conversation should be jaunty.
  5. Drive with an eye to your surroundings. This is quite important, the Friend lives out of the way and many find the turn easy to miss. Do not miss the turn or you will be lost.
  6. Forgive the Friend, for the road to their house is not well tended. It is an old road, for the Friend is old, and travel should be taken with care. But do not dillydally, for the road can be quite treacherous when night falls.
  7. Drive straight and drive true, still with an eye for your surroundings. The road might not be well tended, but everything has been put to catch and hold your attention. The Friend has a flare for the dramatic and you will find that their art reflects this nature. Be sure to compliment the Friend.
  8. Drive straight and true until a village is seen to the right. This is a waypoint and it is sign that your path is still true.
  9. Keep on driving and have care not to miss the turn in the road. It too is out of the way and to miss is to take a detour into the Beneath.
  10. Forgive the friend again, for the road is not often used and is not well kept.
  11. Drive straight and drive true. The music should be lively and conversation should continue. Laughter should ring and happiness should reverberate. For you are visiting a Friend, of course, and the occasion should be one of happiness.
  12. Ignore the wolves and they will have no reason to harm you.
  13. Keep straight and keep true until you see a Man. He is _not_ the Friend and this should be remembered. Be polite and be kind but tell him that you are trying to get to the Friend’s house.
  14. Keep straight and keep true. The road is safe from the things that lurk. Keep to this, let it fill you up, and they shall not harm you.
  15. Keep your eyes on the road for cows are known to lay upon them.
  16. Do no stray from the path. If an unkindness is needed, then so be it. But unkindness should be avoided, the Man is known to the Friend and to be unkind to him is to incur unkindness for the Friend in turn.
  17. There will be goats on the road. Do not fear them.
  18. There will be properties in the wayside: A gingerbread house, a rundown school and a stately manor. Eat from the gingerbread house if you so please and for each treat give away a bit of sweetness; read the books in the school if you so please, and with each page lose a bit of focus; and mingle with the lords and ladies of the manor to gain a cutting tongue, losing a bit of compassion with every conversation shared.
  19. Keep straight and keep true. There will be another property, further in the distance. Tell the Man to travel safely. Have care to be polite.
  20. Keep straight and keep true, for the Friend’s house sits at the end of the road.
  21. If you have reached the gate, call to the Friend and tell them you have come to visit and you have brought gifts. They may be quite happy to see you and will reward you quite handsomely for your troubles.




	8. Chapter 8

“And we…are…about done,” said Chris as he stepped back.

Almost half an hour had passed and the diagram in the middle of the floor had changed. It started with a pair of diamonds in the centre of a double lined circle; the entire thing was wrapped around a double lined diamond large enough to fit circles within it; with the diamond itself closed off in a square. There were lines drawn cast out from the centremost circle in the cardinal and intercardinal directions, with circles capping off the cardinal directions while the intercardinal ran to the corners of the enclosing square. The outer edge of the diamond didn’t fit comfortably within the square, and the points that escaped formed triangles that had been filled in with chalk.

“I thought circles were the go-to shape,” said Trevor as he looked down at the diagram.

Maybe it was my eyes playing tricks on me, but it looked like the lines were off. Whenever I looked at them, it seemed like the bottom was just at the cusp of movement, as though the circle would roll and all the lines would collapse.

I shook my head and it didn’t help make the lines straighter.

“Usually,” said Dean. From the flow of conversation I’d learned that he and Victoria were dating, about the only thing I knew about him. I’d been too engrossed with Dennis’ lesson. “But this is about direction, power finding places to pool, that sort of thing.”

“Final touches,” said Victoria. She moved carefully within the diagram, taking care not to touch the chalk drawn lines.

The interaction between the outer square and the diamond meant each corner became a bisected triangle, and with each, Victoria drew out a symbol using differently coloured chalk. When I looked at the chalk with the sight, it _blazed_ with different types of light.

“What’s going on with the chalk?” I asked. “They look bright with the sight.”

“Made them myself,” said Victoria. “I bartered for some form of power from different Others and added it to the chalk while I was making it. I know a lot of people like to work with blood, draw with it or whatever, but sometimes the consistency isn’t right, and it’s a bit gross.”

“Not as gross as when you were crushing teeth,” Amy said, her voice a little quiet. She hung back, sitting on one of the tables eating an orange.

“Teeth?” I said.

“An Other gave me teeth it collected and each had power,” she said. “Had to grind them down. Which was a _lot_ of work.”

“I prefer mixing blood with ink,” said Dennis. “Had to learn to write with a quill and everything just so I feel like a proper wizard.”

“Didn’t think about that,” said Trevor. “I’ve been struggling a little on how to integrate power into diagrams. Mostly it’s been about using my own personal power. Which can get _exhausting.”_

“I’ve heard about that,” said Dean.

“You’ve heard about it?” I asked, a little confused.

How could someone go through with all this without experiencing it? I hadn’t been using real magic too long and already I’d experienced the fatigue of using too much power, especially when I’d been working with the stone rune.

“A few of the people here are from old power,” said Dennis. “When Brockton Bay was still thriving there were a few families that ran this place, most of them left when it looked like things were going to hell but a few stayed. The Anders of Medhall wealth—”

“Nazis,” said Eric.

“—the Stansfields,” Dennis continued and he gestured and Dean.

“Wait, you’re a Stansfield?” said Trevor, and I had to take a step back to look at him.

The Stansfield were perhaps the most influential family in the Bay, with Mr Stansfield running a company that dealt with investments or something. He was connected to a _lot_ of people in the city, the Mayor, the Police Chief, the District Attorney and a whole lot of other people that weren’t even on my radar. It was said that to be a friend of the Stansfields was to find that life moved much easier.

“Don’t make a big deal about it, please,” he said. “I don’t like to define myself by that.”

Trevor snorted and I caught a bit of darkness flick through his expression. “Okay,” he said, and there was a bit of sarcasm there.

“And the Lavere Family,” Dennis continued, missing the whole thing with Trevor. I noticed as Amy shifted a little and to the sight, I saw the blood around her eyes got thicker.

The Lavere family had run the mob back in the day, when the Teeth had still been a staple in Brockton Bay. Shortly after a horrible gang war known colloquially as the Dark Solstice, the Teeth had moved to New York and the Lavere family had disappeared.

“Those families have, or _had_ with the Lavere family, a lot of power, both political and magical. Dean taps into that so he’s not like us plebs who have to use blood to get power.”

“Lucky you,” said Trevor.

Dean sighed. “I guess you can say that,” he said.

“New Wave is new money,” I said. “Metaphorically speaking. I heard that your parents were the first to come into magic.”

“Yeah,” said Eric. “Our moms went through something with an Other. They were saved, but they saw just enough that they could see on the other side. They were given books by some kid at their school, and they gave our uncle some, things snowballed from there.”

Victoria had finished the symbols and she moved to a few cupboards and pulled out a few objects. A baby rattle, a bent fork, a rusted key and a comb with bits of hair. She put each object into the circles in the diagram.

“They’re second generation,” said Dennis. “They don’t have old power to tap into, but they’re a step above us plebs.”

“We do have _some_ power,” said Victoria. “Aunt Juniper is a Duchamp and…they’re not exactly a big deal, but they know a lot of people and we could tap them for help.”

 _“Way_ better than us plebs,” said Dennis.

“You keep calling yourself a pleb but you’re a Ward,” said Trevor. “You’re around people that know a _lot_ about this stuff and they teach you things.”

“It’s not like you can’t join the Wards too,” said Dennis.

“I mean, I _could,_ but I heard that there were a _lot_ of restrictions and I wasn’t up for those,” he said.

“There aren’t _that_ many restrictions,” said Carlos. “And you learn more than you would on your own. We have the Library of Alexandria with us, the foremost store of magical knowledge in the world, and you can use that to learn your craft.”

“As long as it’s above board,” said Chris.

“What’s that mean?” Trevor asked.

Chris stood from looking at the thickness of the lines and stretched. He reached for his backpack and pulled out a film camera and started to take pictures. “There’s some stuff that you can’t learn because it’s too dangerous,” he said. “Some stuff that even the main guy in Brockton Bay can’t access because he doesn’t have clearance.”

“But that’s all to keep the world safe,” said Carlos. “There are _very_ scary things in this world, and it’s better if they don’t get out.”

“Stuff like what?” I asked. I thought about all the stuff I’d been thinking about, about how the spirits dealt out bad luck to balance the universe and a part of me shook as it tried to imagine worse.

“Curses like the type that’s after my family,” he said with a shrug. “Stuff that’s gotten a lot of people in the past and it’s so powerful than no one thinks we can really win against it. Or gods who get a sudden boost in power because of some movie.”

“That can happen?” said Trevor.

“Not by a lot, but a little,” said Victoria. “That Thor movie that came out a while ago?” Trevor nodded while I shrugged. Hadn’t even known. “You can expect that if it gets popular that’s a little power in Thor’s direction and there’ll be more storms.”

“I think it sort of works because it plays into the old days,” said Chris. “When the Greek Pantheon told stories about themselves and they were shared and they grew in power.”

“The whole Hollywood engine is fickle, but it can still boost power,” Victoria continued.

“It’s sort of like buying back stocks,” said Dean. “It’ll increase return on—”

“And it’s done!” said Chris as Victoria placed a shallow silver bowl filled with water over the centremost diagram. She carefully stepped back and shot a smile at Dean who looked a little glum.

“We’ve still got fifteen minutes before we have to make the call,” said Victoria after a glance at her watch.

“Who else is old power in the city?” I asked. It was honestly more fascinating to hear it from people than from Lisa’s notes, which meant I could maybe start working on filling in the blanks on my own.

“I am,” said Carlos. “I come from a long line of Practitioners on Dad’s side. But he broke it because of the curse. He thought he could run from it. When I awakened, I got all the power of my family even though they’re so far away.”

“In the Protectorate…Hannah is old power from what I heard,” said Dennis.

 _“Dude,”_ said Carlos. “Maybe Hannah doesn’t want everyone knowing about her past?”

“Oh, right, _fuck,”_ he said. “Sorry. Don’t want to step on toes. But anyway, she’s old power and Kenta might be old power, but I don’t know about him—”

“I know a little,” said Victoria.

“Of course you do,” Chris muttered.

“Hey,” said Victoria. “He’s a big player in the Bay and you guys didn’t scrounge up everything you could about him?”

“No,” said Chris.

Dennis shook his head. Carlos shrugged.

“Anyway,” said Victoria. “He’s from Japan. He managed to bind a dragon that had been sleeping in some place in Kyushu and he became public enemy number one. The dragon was a big deal and he messed up the balance. He got the dragon to be his familiar which meant people couldn’t come up after him, but then the Leviathan appeared with everything connected to it and he left after.”

Expressions shifted, a tense atmosphere that hung in the air and pressed against my shoulders. I looked with the sight and I caught something there, nothing physical, but as though the spirits were being weighed down by something and they transferred that weight to us.

“What’s the Leviathan?” I asked and the air got thicker.

“The God of the Depths,” Victoria. “No one knows what it is, but it’s maybe as powerful as the water gods of yore. Whenever there’s a hurricane or a typhoon, you’ll find it at the centre of everything.”

“Newfoundland, New York, the tsunami in Kyushu,” said Eric. “That was it.”

 _Do they bring balance to the universe too?_ I thought.

A lot of the Others I’d come across had _some_ intellect, which made it more terrifying to consider that most of the disasters that happened it the world could be premeditated. After all, there was a bit of relief in the random, the world wasn’t fair and it was crazy to expect it to be. But when it wasn’t, when there was a _reason,_ it hit so much harder.

Had I deserved all the bad stuff that had happened to me. Had my mother? Did every person who a bad thing happened to deserve it?

I thought about the girl who’d been possessed by a goblin, who still hadn’t come back to school. Had she deserved everything that had happened to her? Was it all because of some balance?

“Is that the scariest thing there is with magic?” I asked and I couldn’t be sure why.

“There are two others,” Victoria said and the air got thicker still. “The Behemoth, God of the Thunderous Earth and the Simurgh.”

A shiver ran up my spine, twisted my stomach and squeezed my heart.

“What the fuck?” said Trevor, his voice came out hollow. “What the fuck is that?”

“That’s her aura,” said Carlos, his voice a whisper. He swallowed and I mirrored it. My heart’s beating was heavy, laboured, as though I’d been running and my heart was close to giving out. “There are things, _infernal_ things that destroy completely. _Demons._ People who work with them are called Diabolists. The stories I heard about _her,_ are that a Diabolist screwed up big time and summoned something like her, a demon of madness.”

“Maybe we should stop talking about her,” said Eric, his voice shaky. “About _them._ Names have power, who knows if we’re calling them by talking about them?”

“Yeah,” said Trevor. “I still don’t know all of it, but fuck yeah I agree.”

I was surprised to find that I was nodding my head. Even so, the tense air hung, and it made it hard to start the conversation again. Eating helped a little, and so did going back to my notes so I could clarify the stuff Dennis had told me about building a circle to combine two spirits together, feeding one to the other.

“It’s time,” said Victoria. The purpose helped to move things along faster. “Chris.”

“Okay,” he said. He cleared his throat and started a chant that sounded like Latin. I didn’t know _any_ Latin, but I knew patterns, and he repeated the incantation nine times.

The diagram shifted. The lines I’d spotted, those that had looked like they would fall, _did._ The square shrunk as it turned in a clockwise direction, and it stopped when it met outer boundary of the diamond. The little triangles that had been filled with chalk emptied and each of the objects in the circle blazed with power.

In the centre of the circle, the overlapping diamonds came together into a single diamond, and the water in the bowl leapt up and broke into mist that spread _out._ The mist hit the first layer of the circle and pushed it against the second until it closed; it turned in a counter-clockwise direction, and the lines stretching out from it were pulled which rolled the smaller circles with the items of power down. Between a blink, the small circles and the items disappeared and so had the outer diamond, which left only a large circle with an image of a clubhouse and about six other kids about our age.

“That took more power than I expected,” said a guy who stood at the head of the group. The image resolved, more colour coming into it and I saw that he was made out of metal. I couldn’t look at him with the sight, not through the image, even though I wanted nothing but.

“That’s why I said we should just _call,”_ a girl behind him said. “We didn’t need to do this, not after the power we spent.”

“We’ll discuss that later,” said the guy. He looked around. “There are new faces.”

“Yeah,” said Carlos. “Taylor and Trevor. Victoria invited them. Guys this is Weld, behind him are Rebecca, Sanjay, Tabatha, Sammy and Hunch.”

“That’s _too_ many names for me to remember,” Trevor muttered.

“New Wards?” Weld asked.

“Nah, just new Practitioners, relatively,” said Carlos.

Weld nodded.

“How did things go?” Victoria asked.

“Awfully,” said the girl behind Weld, Rebecca. Weld glanced back. “Sorry.”

“We reached the Friend’s house and we got gifts,” said Weld. “But it was _tough_ getting there.”

“Even with everything we’ve worked out so far?” Victoria asked. She had a notebook out and she wasn’t the only one. I went over to my backpack and did the same. I’d already read through the instructions she’d given us and honestly, they didn’t look that complicated.

They were stupidly simple and I could see myself bored enough that I’d try it, especially in areas where there wasn’t a lot to do. But it was magic and magic could be dangerous.

“Even with that,” said Weld.

“Can you run us through it?” she said. “For Trevor and Taylor’s sake.”

Weld took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “Okay,” he said. “First, our link broke. The rope we used wasn’t as strong as we thought it would be and our speeds didn’t match. The second car got to the turn fifteen minutes after us.”

Victoria jotted that down.

“We couldn’t stop. Hunch said it didn’t feel right, so we took our time. The road’s fucked up so it’s better to take it slow anyway. But the sun started to set and we couldn’t see the Friend’s artwork which means we missed a few of them.”

“What effect did that have?” Carlos asked.

“The Friend was a lot more short tempered than when the McKinley circle talked to them. The McKinleys didn’t have to eat the Friend’s food, they brought their own, but we had to because they were insistent about it.”

“Fuck, man,” Dennis muttered.

“What’s the food?” I asked and a part of me was afraid of the answer.

“Mostly meat, most of it uncooked. The ones that are cooked are burned and tough,” said Hunch, a young boy with eyes that looked like they had gears in them. “And we had to _compliment_ it without lying which was tough.”

“The Friend’s pretty easy to compliment, though,” said Sanjay. “Maybe it would have been worse if we’d missed more?”

“They also didn’t like some of our gifts,” said Weld. “They felt insulted by them as they took them.”

“But they still gave you yours?” Dean asked.

Weld nodded. “She told us that she _knew_ us and she gave us what we desired,” he said.

“Can I ask?” said Victoria.

“Just a sense of taste,” said Weld. “Which I _did_ want, but I would have loved something else.”

“Yeah,” said Victoria. I had a strong feeling that I was missing a _lot_ of context there.

“How was the road in the dark?” Carlos asked.

“Hard and _slow._ It was easier to see the town, though, because the lights were on. The wolves attacked us—”

“My fault,” said Hunch. “I turned towards them and they jumped at the car.”

“I stepped on the gas because I was so surprised and crashed into a cow,” said Weld. “The wolves were prowling for a while, but the cow appeared just after I lost concentration.”

“The wording isn’t right on the instructions,” said Chris. “It stops saying to drive. I think it’s expected that you’ll walk after that?”

“Maybe, cause the car was totalled even though we weren’t driving fast. Thankfully, the second one was alright. But we had to kill the wolves before we could make it out to the other car. The Man made that hard because he just wanted to run even though that would have gotten him killed. We had to restrain him which is unkindness and he wanted recompense when we left him to go back home.”

“What did you give him?” asked Victoria.

“We told him that he should talk to the Friend and he agreed,” he said. “Which might be another reason the Friend was so touchy, but that’s taking away more power from them, so it’s good in the long run. I have no idea how that’ll impact you and the next group, though.”

“What about the school yard,” said Victoria. “Did you get what you wanted?”

Weld sighed. “Not clear answers,” he said. “But there was a starting point. A Dramatis Personae with a few names. I didn’t know most of them, but I know William Manton and Afrodille Sechen. I’ll send you the rest and maybe you’ll find something. I only looked at one page because I didn’t want to lose too much.”

Victoria nodded.

“Give us anything else,” said Carlos. “Anything we might need to prep for before we visit the Friend.”

“And how to treat with her,” said Dean. “That’s usually always important.”

“Becca, you mind taking over?” said Weld.

“Sure,” said Rebecca and she moved forward. “You shouldn’t eat before the trip but you’re allowed to eat when you’re caught up in it, just be sure that you’re not full when you get to the Friend’s House…”

***

“So?” said Victoria.

It was near eight and the meeting with Weld had only just ended. We were supposed to go to the Ruins, wherever those were, but things had drawn out more than we’d expected, and a lot of us had to get home.

A lot of the others had already left, Trevor amongst them. I was one of the last waiting for a cab to take me back home.

“It was…” I shrugged. “I liked it,” _and it doesn’t have as much baggage as everything around the Undersiders even if it’s close to that since Lisa wanted me to come here._

“Good,” she said. “This stuff…it’s fun because of the community. All of us coming together to do amazing things. It’s why the Protectorate works.”

“Then why didn’t your family join them?” I asked.

“Because the Protectorate system has its failings,” she said. “There’s a lot of stuff you have to do because of deals you have to make. But at their core they’re about helping people which, honestly, is one of the best things about them because Practitioners have this thing of focusing on the big stuff without thinking about the little things.”

“Like this game?” I asked. “Maybe I don’t know a lot, but it feels dangerous with all the traps we discussed. I can’t see people making through without disappearing.”

She frowned. “People disappear a lot of the time, unfortunately,” she said. “A lot of Others get power from making an impact, and the easiest way to make an impact is to kill and keep killing. A lot of serial killers that were never caught, the Zodiac Killer, the Long Island Serial Killer or the Cleveland Torso Murderer are Others in one way or another.”

I let out a sigh and swallowed. “Are the spirits responsible for everything bad that ever happens?” I asked. “Like Jonah and bad luck, is it all spirits?”

Victoria took a deep breath. Her house wasn’t at the top of the Hill, but Brockton Bay still sprawled out, the tall buildings of Downtown alight.

“That’s a hard question,” she said. “There are a few magical schools and in some of them they teach philosophy. I _wish_ that I could attend one of them, but I don’t have that sort of clout.”

“You don’t know?” I asked, pushing the conversation back.

“I wish I did,” she said, “but…” She shrugged. “You haven’t been to the spirit world yet, have you?” I shook my head. “There are these things called omens, spirits that sort of embody a _state._ There are omens for hurt, physical and emotional, or suffering or that sort of stuff. At a point where they gather the most, bad stuff happens. But the question is, are the omens drawn to places where bad stuff is happening or does bad stuff happen where they’ve gathered?

“All of it gets complicated because Practitioners have a hand in things too,” she continued. “There are some people that collect omens and send them out to cause suffering, that hex might have started as a simple omen at its start before it started to get smarter in a direction. Which means omens _can_ cause stuff to happen, but it’s something else entirely to think about if they do.”

I nodded.

“But you’re a Practitioner,” she said. “If you pay attention, you’re supposed to be able to feel that balance. Karma is their easiest way to feel it on yourself, but sometimes it’s worth looking at how you react to other people, it might tell you how the universe feels about them.”

“Whether they have bad karma or not?”

She nodded. “Being a Practitioner, we can sort of trick the system so that we don’t feel the effects. We can ride a wave of good karma to get better things, store the good karma that we have, maybe gift it in little ways to people who need it or we can skirt around bad karma, but I wouldn’t do that because the universe doesn’t like that.”

“Can we do that for others?” I asked. “Ensure that they skirt bad karma?”

“We’re already doing it,” she said. “Stuff like the game mostly attracts innocents with some bad doings. It can be something big or something small, it can be something personal or something passed down through the line like Carlos and the curse on his family. But by taking out some of the scarier things, we make sure people don’t meet _really_ bad ends.”

I nodded again. My cab arrived.

“Will we be seeing you again?” she asked.

“I’ll stick around until the game thing is done then I’ll see how things go from there,” I told her.

Victoria grinned. “Awesome,” she said. “I saw that you had a phone.”

“New,” I said. “I’ll call you so you have my number.”

“Bye, Taylor,” she said.

The trip home was silent and I got back to find that Dad was sleeping on the couch, the television watching him. He woke up as I got in.

He smiled. “How was it?” he asked.

“It was cool,” I said. “Victoria and her friends are really nice.”

Dad smiled brighter. “I’m happy for you Taylor,” he said.

“Heading up. Homework and stuff.”

“Might be time for me to head up too,” he said.

I got into my room and checked my notebook, all the notes I’d made both about the game, the diagram Dennis had showed me and the diagram Victoria and Chris had drawn out. Trevor had asked about the elements and I jotted them down. After that was done, I did my homework then went to sleep.

School the next day was okay, mostly because I rode the high from the conversation with the other Practitioners my age. There was a still a pit in my stomach as I thought about Lisa and how she’d pushed me towards Victoria, but everything had seemed normal and okay, and maybe I’d misjudged Lisa’s intentions.

At lunch in the library I turned away attention from myself and called the Undersiders.

 _“Yo,”_ said Alec.

“Hey,” I said. “Is Lisa there.”

 _“Lisa,”_ he said, not really a shout. _“Give her a minute.”_

Lisa picked up the phone less than a minute later. _“Hey,”_ she said. _“This is a surprise.”_

“Really?” I asked.

 _“The honest truth,”_ she said. _“Is something up?”_

“Nah,” I said. “Just talked to Victoria and spent the some of yesterday with her friends and it was pretty cool.”

 _“Knew you’d like her,”_ she said. _“Not a hundred percent, but more than fifty. Learn anything cool?”_

“Dennis offered to take me to the Ruins for spirits to feed a hex I picked up,” I said. “So that’s cool. Learned about a game thing Victoria and a few other people are taking care off and I think I might be part of that.”

 _“You have a hex?”_ she said.

“Yeah. Long story short, it got to my Dad and gave him bad luck,” I told her. “It didn’t fight me or anything when I caught it.”

_“Did someone send it?”_

“It didn’t look like it.”

 _“That’s good,”_ said Lisa. _“Things with Skidmark are still falling into place. He could do something like that.”_

“Victoria didn’t think it was him.”

 _“I don’t too,”_ she said. _“It doesn’t fit. Thankfully, you’re saying it wasn’t sent by anyone so that’s a relief.”_

“That I’ve noticed, yeah,” I said. “Anyway, thanks for pointing me towards Victoria.”

 _“Sure,”_ she said. _“You could repay me by having coffee with me on Saturday.”_

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll see you then.”

 _“Bye,”_ she said.

I rode another high for the rest of the day until school ended. Ever since things had turned around with Emma, I hadn’t really had any friends. I’d sort of accepted it, accepted how rote my life had become as I’d gone to school, gotten bullied, then gone home for a chance at a breather. On and on without looking forward to anything.

Now I had things that were close to friends: Lisa, even if she was connected to Mr Calvert and that was worrying, and maybe Victoria because she was genuinely a nice person. Now, even though school could be boring, I didn’t mind it as much, it was _bearable_ in a way.

It was terrifying because life had taught me that good things happened just so the bad things hurt worse.

_But I’m a Practitioner and I can get good karma to make sure that things that horrible don’t happen to me again. I can make sure that they don’t happen to others like they happened to me._

I got home and did the protection ritual, painted my nails with the nail polish imbued with blood, then considered the fact that the blood I’d gotten from the wolves was starting to dry. I didn’t know anyway of preserving blood and I honestly didn’t want to bother Lisa or Victoria about it, which meant, after Dad had gone to sleep, I snuck out with my backpack, my chain and my stick, then went to the park. When I was there, I used the blood to dial up my senses by painting all my face down to my neck, and went for a walk to the park. 

There were a lot more things awake in the night, things I hadn’t noticed before. I spotted the spirits of the park and maybe what was a goblin but they scampered away and I didn’t care about catching them.

I felt ridiculous as I walked around with Ewald’s stick, especially after I’d checked it over and still found nothing special about it. But consensus was that elf wood was something to be treasured. I had the stick in hand as I walked and I gave it a few twirls between my fingers.

I was _really_ bad at it.

Fifteen minutes into the walk I spotted a kid. He was short, maybe ten or eleven, dressed in a private school uniform with a tie and everything. He had blond hair, neatly parted, but he didn’t have eyes or a nose, he only had a mouth that dominated his face, with giant teeth revealed, framed by big ears.

I swallowed.

The kid began to giggle, a sound that bounced through the trees and surrounded me in every direction.

_Maybe this was a bad idea._

I took a step back and this was the wrong thing to do because the kid’s laughter got louder. He took off in a run, pell-mell, his arms cast out.

For a second I thought about running before I remembered that I was a distant cousin to wolves. I stepped forward and growled, the blood on my face helping to make the sound deep.

The boy didn’t falter and I didn’t back down. I ran ahead, my stick and chain at the ready. I swung the stick first and the boy stopped on a dime, turned and dodged. He lunged, face-mouth opened. I twisted around and swung my chain, it hit the side of his head _hard._ He stumbled.

With a harsh bark, I swung my stick.

The boy tried to fend the stick off and it didn’t work. The impact landed and the sound of bone breaking reverberated.

There were no features to tell me that the boy was surprised, nor that he was a little scared, but I felt in nonetheless and I bristled, almost slobbered in anticipation. I went on the attack as he tried to turn and run. My chain was long and I cast it out to hit him in the back of the head. I missed and was lucky enough to catch his foot. The impact was hard but he shrugged it off.

 _There’s something in the stick,_ I thought.

I took off in a sprint. I wasn’t the best sprinter but the blood seemed to course through me and fill me with a need for speed. I clubbed the boy in the back of the head and he fell forward. He turned around and flung some dirt at me that caught my eye and nose.

I let out a breath. 

_Annoying._

He scrambled to his feet but I caught him with the stick in the chest. He fell back and landed hard.

“Stay down!” I said and the words were a snarl. He tried to get up and I clubbed him again. I was breathing hard, filled with a righteous fury that he thought he could beat _me,_ the cousin to wolves. “Stay down!”

The boy stopped moving. I noticed for the first time that he wasn’t breathing.

“Agree to be bound to my word,” I said. “Agree to be bound by me for a period of three full moons. Agree or I’ll hit you again and again and again.”

“I agree,” the boy said.

“In full,” I snarled. “Tell me what you agree to.”

“I agree to be bound to you and to your word until such a time three full moons have graced the skies,” he said, his voice young sounding even if he spoke like an adult.

A part of me still wanted to give him another good hit, just to make sure, but then I stopped for a second and thought about it, thought about the feelings that ran through me and how they weren’t my own.

It was the bear all over again. I’d used too much power and gotten drunk off of it. I made a mental note to watch for it in the future, because much though it had helped me here, it could be dangerous.

I turned to the right as I felt something look at me. It was a girl, maybe four of five, dressed in a white dress with the head of a deer. She looked at me with large expressive eyes and I couldn’t be sure what she was.

I started to growl, _felt_ the sound in my shoulder blades as if they wanted to rise, but before I could bark the girl had already scampered off.


	9. Chapter 9

“Have a good day at school,” said Dad as he left.

My only answer was a smile.

It wasn’t a lie. It was really an obfuscation of the truth, but I still felt horrible about it. It was a little ironic that when I’d sworn oaths to tell only the truth, more than ever I lied to Dad.

 _Not a lie,_ I thought. _At least not in form. But in spirit, it’s something else altogether._

Dad left expecting me to go to school, but that had been a lie gone unsaid. I’d showered after my morning jog, then came to the kitchen with my backpack ready. It made sense that, given the show and my track record, Dad would assume that I was going to school. I didn’t correct his assumption.

“You’ve got to remember why you’re doing this,” I muttered as I made my way into the basement.

I stopped as a web flared to life. I looked up and there, on the ceiling, was a hand with a mouth and eyes. I yelped and ran forward as it dropped. I _tripped_ and I fell head over heels down the stairs. I felt a weight at my legs and when I shifted my view with the sight, I caught another hand crawling up my leg. The first hand was still at up the stairs, though it moved quickly down.

Small wonders I hadn’t broken my neck, but a twinge in my arm told me I’d jostled something.

_Can’t focus on that._

I had jeans on and they were the only thing protecting me from the hand’s fingernails. I turned around and kicked. The hand was spry and it dodged out of the way. I rolled so I could squish it and it scrambled out of the way. It was at my hip now, and I worried that once it got to my waist those nails would dig into skin.

“Stick!” I shouted and the web flared. I got to my feet and ran forward. The hand reached my back. I grabbed the hood of my hoodie and pulled, hoping that I’d pull my entire jacket off. It didn’t work, but it pulled the hand up which jumped up to my neck.

Nails dug in and I screamed. A palm touched the back of my neck, a tongue licked and then teeth _bit._

Another scream left me. My legs wobbled and I fell forward. One hand reached out and it found the stick. I swung it around and the hand scrambled down. I couldn’t stop the stick, though, and it hit me at the back of the head.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Nails dug into my back. I ran backward towards a wall and I slammed into it. The hand had already scrambled to my side and that let me smack it off. The other hand scrambled towards me and I ran forward and kicked. It sailed through the air before it landed hard.

The first hand neared and I swung my stick. The hit landed and the hand sailed and slammed into the ground. It rolled and came up. One eye had been burst by the hit and it shook its body.

Two hands, one had disappeared beneath a table and the other in sight. The wound in my neck _ached._ The hand under the table had some sort of magic that made it so I couldn’t follow its web with the sight.

“Other!” I said. The hand in with one eye darted forward. I swung the stick and it dodged. I jumped as the other hand crawled out from beneath cover, its web flared, and it tried to jump me.

I swung the stick and missed again. I kicked and the hand contorted and grabbed my shoe. I stamped down and the hand scrambled up my leg. I swung the stick and caught it. It flew and landed in a roll. I threw myself to the side and quickly came up, the other hand dodged.

“Other! You are bound by my word!” I swung and missed. “By my word I order you! Tell them to stop!”

“Stop,” said the Other.

But the damned things didn’t stop. I scrambled back to my chain and was cut off by a hand. I whirled and beat the hand aside.

“Stop them!” I said and desperation found my voice.

The Other stepped out of the circle I’d told him to stay in all night.

“Stop!” the Other shouted, his voice shrill.

The hands stopped.

“What the fuck was that?” I asked. “How did you do that? You weren’t supposed to get out of the circle! You weren’t supposed to hurt me.”

“I didn’t hurt you,” the Other said. _“They_ hurt you.”

“But you made them!”

“I didn’t hurt you,” the Other said.

My heartbeat fast against my chest and my eyes burned. My neck _ached_ and I could feel blood under my shirt. I hadn’t let myself think it, but I could have _died._

I took a breath and let it out. It came out shaky.

I swallowed and found my throat dry.

 _This is a learning moment,_ I let myself think. I’d met Stinkie and Jonah, and they’d mostly been okay. Jonah was a _hex_ but he still hadn’t caused trouble. I’d let down my guard, even when the Other had tried to attack me last night. I’d only made a circle around it and thought my word would be enough to keep it from hurting me and that hadn’t been enough.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

The Other didn’t move to answer.

“Answer me.”

“Your protections were lacking,” he said.

_Fuck you. Fuck you so much._

I took a breath and held it. I wanted to close my eyes but I couldn’t take the chance that I’d missed something else and the Other would attack me.

“Answer all my questions,” I said. “Answer them without attempts at obfuscation. How the _fuck_ did you get those things out?”

“Your protections were lacking,” he said.

“I said no obfuscation.”

“And I obscured nothing. Your protections were lacking.”

My hands closed into fists, so tight I could feel my nails dig against flesh.

 _“How?”_ I asked. _“How_ were they lacking?”

“A simple circle works for a simple Other,” he said. “I’m not a simple Other.”

So the only thing that kept him in the circle was my word. The circle itself had been worthless. I looked at the hands. Maybe the hands weren’t a part of him even if they had come from him.

When I looked at the Other, he still had both his hands.

“Okay,” I muttered. The back of my neck still ached and I wanted to get it cleaned before I went to get it checked out. But I didn’t want to leave the Other here when they could get up to more tricks while I was gone.

The best thing I had right now was my word. My circle was worthless and I couldn’t use positive or negative bindings until I figured out what type of Other he was. Which meant I had to be _very_ careful of my wording.

“Go into that circle and take these hand things with you,” I said.

The Other followed the order and the hands followed until they were in the circle.

“Where did those things come from?” I asked.

“Lots of different places,” he said. “Can’t remember where I got these ones.”

“How did you make them appear?” I asked. He tapped his belly. “You ate them and threw them up?”

“Yes,” said.

“Okay. I can figure this out. I want you and anything that’s yours in any measure, including things that come from your body, to stay in that circle. You aren’t allowed to hurt me, directly or indirectly, and you’re not allowed to use or release any tools or beings that could hurt me, directly or indirectly.”

I waited a second.

“Is there any way you can see of hurting me with the order I gave you?” I asked.

“Not right at this moment,” he said.

“But you might?” I muttered.

“Yes,” he said.

“Fuck you so much.”

An idea hit me. I had no idea if it would work, but it was better than nothing. I added another circle above the one I’d already drawn, then drew pillars within the circles in the cardinal directions, which I used to fit in the seals I’d learned from Sophia.

“Tell those things to get out of the circle,” I said.

“Go,” the other said.

The hands lunged and met an invisible wall.

Small reliefs. “Stay in the circle,” I said. “Don’t send anything against me, directly or indirectly. If you think of something that means you or anything that’s from you or working towards your ends, directly or indirectly, is able to leave the circle get out. _I’m_ the only one who can tell you to leave.”

_Hopefully I didn’t miss anything._

I left, headed for the hospital.

Unlike a lot of people in Brockton Bay, Dad had medical insurance and I was covered under his policy, which meant I could go to the better hospital Downtown, where there weren’t long wait times. But since the place was good, they decided to call the police when I told them I’d been attacked.

When the nurse left, I called Victoria.

 _“What’s up?”_ she said.

“I need help,” I said. “Um, I was attacked by an Other—”

_“Oh, are you okay?”_

“I’m getting checked out, but they called the police. I heard that there’s a Practitioner who’s a cop. Can you call them for me to sort things out if it’s not any trouble? I have _no_ idea how I’m going to explain this.”

 _“I can call my Mom and she can make the call,”_ said Victoria. _“Hanging up.”_

“Thanks. Bye.”

 _“Bye,”_ she said and she dropped the line.

The nurse or doctor returned, cleaned the wound and bandaged it. She told me that I would need to be given antibiotic, which I should take until they were finished, so I wouldn’t get any infections. The human mouth, and I _hoped_ it was human, had a lot of bacteria and it was better to have that out of my system.

“The police have been called,” she said. “You might want to call your parents so they can talk to you too.”

_It’ll look suspicious if I say no._

I let out a long sigh and gave them Dad’s work number. I focused on his web and I saw all the worry connected there. I closed my eyes to them and I focused on my story.

I waited and Dad arrived first.

“Taylor, what’s going on?” he asked. “They told me you were attacked.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I was bitten.”

“How? _Where?”_

“The park,” I said carefully. “They attacked me from behind. I fought them off. I didn’t see their face.”

_Because hands, even if they have eyes, don’t have faces._

“The police,” said Dad.

“Have already been called,” said the nurse. “They should be here already.”

_Maybe the Cop Practitioner is keeping them from coming._

“Did you have your pepper spray?” Dad asked.

“No,” I said. It had been in my bag which hadn’t been with me in the basement.

He shook his head. “You’re going to have to go back to taking the bus,” he said. “If someone can attack you in the park? Then…”

_The bus is going to take too long and I’m not going to get to miss the time for my ritual._

“No,” I said. “Please. Something else. I could…get a bike or something. I _really_ don’t want to take the bus.”

Dad frowned. “Does this have anything to do with…you know…”

_The bullying? The time I landed in hospital?_

“I wouldn’t be happy if I took the bus again,” I said. Because I wouldn’t be protected and that would make me scared, thus not happy.

_God, this is exhausting._

Dad sighed. “I can’t let you be in danger,” he said. “Even if you’re a little unhappy for the trip.”

“I can get a bike,” I said.

“Where are you going to get the money?” he asked.

“I could start tutoring,” I said. “There are some kids at school that are struggling with their lessons. I’ve been doing well lately. I could tutor them for cash.”

“Okay,” said Dad. “Okay. How about this. I take out some money from your college savings and you tutor so you can repay it.”

“I’ll repay it,” I said with a nod.

“Okay, then,” said Dad. “I don’t know if I feel completely better, but it’s a bike, so…” He nodded.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said.

A web flared and I turned left just as the door opened. A woman stepped in dressed in her civvies. She was a little shorter than me, with curly brown hair; her skin looked a little like she’d just gotten a tan and her eyes were a warm brown. To the sight she was dressed in the blue of a police officer and her badge blazed with light, her eyes were intimidating and her mouth was set in resolution.

“Hello,” she said. “I’m Officer Williams. We were called.”

“Yes,” said Dad. “My daughter was attacked while she was walking to school.”

“Is that right?” Officer Williams asked me.

“I was attacked,” I said.

Her lips quirked a little in a smile. She touched something in her pocket and everything around us shifted. It was a like a wave that messed up every web around us. Dad, the closest to me, sat back and paid attention to nothing in particular.

“Ms Hebert?” she said.

“Yeah. Taylor.”

She smiled. “It’s good to meet you, Taylor,” she said.

“Is it?” I asked. “Good to meet me?”

She nodded. “It’s always better if we know all the Practitioners in the city so we can…keep track in case there’s anything we have to watch out for,” she said.

I frowned.

“How are you doing? Victoria was worried about you.”

“I think I’m okay,” I said. “The wound’s been looked at by the doctors.”

“Can I look at it?” I shrugged. She walked behind me. I expected her to peel back the bandage but she didn’t. “It’s not cursed at least. I think you should be okay if you follow the doctor’s orders.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“What was it? That attacked you?”

“I don’t know yet,” I said. “I was going to start to figure it out what it was, but it managed to find a loophole.”

“First binding?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Sort of the third.”

“Oh?”

“First was a stench spirit, the second was a goblin, but that wasn’t really a binding. I just told it to come back to me. The third was a hex and the last one was the thing I don’t know yet.”

“Did the other two go off without a hitch?” she asked. “The ones you felt like were true bindings?”

I nodded.

“Third time’s the charm. If I were to guess, you got off easy on the other two so the third binding counted more. You failed and you failed harshly. This will stick in a way, because I’m sure this is a memory that’ll stay with you.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I took more protections before I left even though I was in pain.”

“Good girl,” she said. A feeling of warmth started up in my stomach and filled all of my body. “If you’re Victoria’s friend, then you’ve already heard about the Wards. You’ve decided not to join?”

I shrugged. “Don’t want to be part of any teams right now,” I said. “I’m figuring things out on my own.”

“You could have that room with the Wards,” she said. “You’d have to make certain promises, things you can’t deal with without prior approval or at least until you turn eighteen. But we would offer you support, a knowledge base, bits of personal power if you ever need it and help in times of need.”

“I really don’t want to join any teams right now,” I said.

She smiled. “I can understand that,” she said. “But know that you can always call us and join.”

She pulled out a card and handed it over.

“Okay,” I said as I took it.

“And that’ll be all, Ms Hebert,” she said and with those words every web resettled and Dad paid attention.

“Over already?” he said as he snapped out of the spell. “Stress must be making me tired.”

“Must be,” said Officer Williams. “People will investigate and an alert will be given out.”

_What will be investigated and who will the alert be given to?_

But of course these weren’t questions Dad knew to ask.

“Can I not go to school?” I asked Dad. “My backpack is already at home.”

“Okay,” said Dad. “I’ll drive you home.”

“No. It’s okay. I can take a bus.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Okay,” said Dad.

I took a cab back home, because just because I _could_ take the bus, it didn’t mean I _would._

_It’s getting too easy to tell these lies._

***

_Round fucking two._

I checked the house.

I looked at everything deeply with the sight and I started from the top down. Every room, through every corner and every crevice, but I couldn’t find anything. I wanted to calm down but I didn’t let myself, because I’d let down my guard this morning and it hadn’t worked out for me.

It was through luck or some unknown rule that had stopped the hands from leaving the basement, going upstairs and strangling me in my sleep, and it didn’t sit well with me that I’d been saved by luck.

_Be better._

The Other sat in his circle, the hands gone and most probably eaten again. He sat with his knees curled up and his head hidden in his arms, the sound of a soft sob reverberated through the room. It bounced around me, got in my ears and shook my heart.

There was something about the cries of a child. Even if you were angry at them, they had a way to tug the heartstrings.

I swallowed and shook my head.

“Fuck that,” I said. “Stop. Stop crying.”

The cries abruptly cut off. I was left relieved, though the silence was a bit terrifying on its own.

I went over to a chair and put it in front of the circle. I took my notebook and a pencil, then prepared my phone to record the conversation.

I’d come here this morning to learn as much from the Other as I could. Most of the things I knew were because of other people, Mr Calvert, the Undersiders, and Victoria and her friends. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, but the times where I figured out these things on my own were the times I loved magic the most. There were still the runes I had under my belt and the diagrams I’d made and ones I still had to think up.

I _could_ ask for answers from other Practitioners, but I wanted to be self-dependant.

I took in a deep breath and let it out. It was shaky around the edges, but that was healthy. Fear was healthy.

I started the recording.

“Do you have a name?” I asked.

“I do,” the Other returned.

“What is it?”

“It? It could be a lot of things,” he said. There was childlike mirth in his voice. _“It_ is a pronoun. It can be used as substitution for a lot of things.”

I scowled. The Other didn’t have any lips, but I caught his smile nonetheless.

“Tell me your name,” I said.

He mumbled something, so soft I couldn’t hear.

“Tell me your name, tell it loud and tell it clear.”

**“Chompers!”**

The sound was cast out and it was a shriek that _cut_ into my ears. For a moment I couldn’t think, at least not clearly, there was only a ring in my ear as if a gunshot had gone off next to my ear.

 _“Fuck,”_ I muttered and I grit my teeth as I heard the sound of laughter around me. I shook my head and focused on him, on _Chompers._ He still sat with his knees pulled close, but mirth radiated through him.

I felt angry, but I couldn’t succumb to that anger, not when it could get me to make a mistake.

 _Why was fighting him so much easier than getting any clear answers?_ I thought.

It _shouldn’t_ be this hard. But then, there was far more danger in a Practitioner being able to pin something down than just beating it with a stick. Knowledge of that kind could be spread around and it could make an Other weaker like we were planning on doing with the Friend.

_Calm and think carefully._

I took a breath in, long and deep.

“Chompers,” I said. “Speak at a volume where I can hear you clearly, but not so loud that it hurts me.”

“Okay,” said Chompers.

I nodded. “I’ll be asking you questions and you’ll answer them.”

“I will,” said Chomper. “But I’ll make it hard for you. As hard as I can.”

“I could command you to not do that.”

“You could,” he said. “But I’ll find my way out of it. You’re still new, all things considered, still unlearned. I could make this experience easier for you if we were to strike a deal.”

“I’m listening,” I said.

“Grant me an hour each day I am in your service,” he said. “An hour where I am free, and I will answer these questions.”

I frowned. “If you’re free, then you’re also free of my word and you can come after me, work against me.”

Chompers smiled. “That’s the way of it,” he said.

“Terms and conditions,” I said. “We make a contract to figure out the limits of your freedom in this hour, and in return you answer in as much detail as you can when I ask you a question. This is the broad strokes of what we’ll discuss.”

“Let’s begin,” said Chompers.

He wanted an hour of freedom whenever he wanted, but that was out of the question. I decided to give him an hour from ten to eleven at night. In that time he wasn’t allowed to hurt me or my Dad directly or indirectly, or conspire to have us hurt through his power or through the powers of others, knowingly or unknowingly as much as he could.

“As much as you can,” I said. “What if…you’re drunk or something, and you have lowered inhibitions or something like that. That could stretch the limits of unknowingly.”

“Then I will not be permitted to action that would cause such a state,” said Chompers.

I wrote it down. He would have his hour, but he wouldn’t kill or harm anyone.

“Does inflicting terror count as harm?” said Chompers. “I am a being of fear, my very presence unsettles. I would not be able to move if I could not cause harm.”

“Then limit the harm from scaring,” I said. “We could say…you can’t permanently scar someone by scaring them.”

“I can accept,” he said.

The discussion took almost an hour before we had a contract we both agreed with. I read it over and listened to the recording I had to check everything we’d said and though my voice was audible, Chompers’ voice came out garbled. I deleted the recording. It would have been _really_ cool to have that on-hand, but some things didn’t work out.

I read the contract over: I gave him an hour and he gave me answers. ‘Spirit’ was a hard thing to judge so there was a clause in the contract that I could revoke the contract if I found the manner in which he answered the questions wanting, but for that to happen we’d have to go to an impartial party to adjudicate the matter. He wouldn’t be allowed to harm me or Dad while he had his freedom, directly or indirectly; he wasn’t allowed to harm other people and he wasn’t allowed to inflict permanent terror. He wasn’t supposed to call into action events that could harm me or my Dad or our interests, as abstract as the notion of ‘interest’ was.

I read it over seven times and I didn’t spot any holes.

He signed the contract first, then I did.

“We have an accord,” he said. “Ask away, young Practitioner.”

“What are you?” I asked, and the worlds let out of my mouth.

“An Other of the Abyss,” he said. “A Bogeyman from the Academy.”

“The Abyss?” I asked and Chompers started off explaining all he knew about the Abyss. It was a _lot,_ but delivered so I could detail what he told me.

The Abyss was an _Other_ place like the spirit world or the Ruins and maybe like whatever the place the Friend lived in. Chompers described it as the base layer of reality and where forgotten things went. It was supposed to be a large place with different sections and different others, but Chompers only knew three: The Academy, his home, the Road, which was a path that moved in a straight line through the Abyss, and the Infirmaries, which were adjacent to the Academy.

“Each section has different rules and from each sprout different Bogeymen,” he said.

“Are all Others Bogeymen?” I asked. “Or are most?”

“No,” he said. “Others are varied and not all of them call the Abyss home. Some are ideas given form, some are undying will in the case of Revenants, some are all the hate in the world given form and purpose. Others are fear so strong it left an imprint on the world.”

I wrote all of this down.

“Personal question,” I said. “What do you do most of the day? Like…what’s your day-to-day?”

“In the day I sleep,” he said. “It’s not a human sleep, it’s a hibernation of sorts. I straddle the line between being here and in the Abyss. At night I roam, in search of Others, Practitioners or innocents, a way to make enough of an impact so I do not return to the Abyss.”

I swallowed. “How do you choose who you kill?” I asked. My stomach turned at the thought.

“I do not make a habit of killing,” he said.

“Then those you eat.”

“Those without tethers are the easiest,” he said. “Those who will go unmissed. The homeless mostly.”

_Fuck this world. Fuck this world for being shitty to the people who least deserve it._

“Other times, the universe guides me. There is a balance to everything and some have more ill-will wrapped around them than others. Things have a way of putting a person who has a debt against the universe in a position where I can find them, scare them until they’re hollowed out and then I eat them.”

 _A part of me wants to bind you so that you can’t ever do that again,_ I thought.

But I only had three months and I had to give him his hour. Not to mention that there was also the big picture to think about. I needed to know as much as I could about him and things like him, so I could get better at protecting myself and other people from stuff like him.

“We’re taking a break,” I said. “The same terms that keep you in the circle and keep you from trying to get out or harm me still apply.”

Chompers nodded.

I went upstairs with my notes and notebooks. I started to collate the notes I’d picked up and it was only then that I realised the subtle play Chompers had made. He’d given me a _lot_ about the Abyss and sure that was interesting, but it had kept me from asking critical questions about _him_ and ways I could figure out to better work the binding or circles to keep him in beyond my word.

I made a note to ask about that when I got back to questioning him.

I made myself a sandwich and drank some juice. Then I sent Victoria a text telling her that I was okay after everything had happened, something I’d completely forgotten about. I thought about telling Lisa about the attack, but that felt like I might be bothering her for nothing.

I started up on dinner and made sure to give it all my attention to make up for the sort-of lies I’d told Dad. Then I teed up a movie to watch, it was a quasi-romance horror I’d heard about and Dad was into that sort of thing, as long as they weren’t gore.

He got back, asked about my day and we watched the movie.

Dad went to bed early and I stayed up as ten neared.

I pulled off the seals around the circle before the hour came.

“Come with me and don’t cause trouble,” I said.

Causing trouble would cause harm indirectly, but I didn’t want to take the chance that he could weasel out of the terms of the contract.

Chompers followed me out of the house. I kept track of Dad to make sure he wouldn’t wake up when I opened the door. Chompers and I got out of the house, he turned towards something and I followed it with the sight. It was the girl again, dressed in a dress that almost glowed with how white it was, and with big, scared eyes.

The hour came and Chompers was free.

He bolted towards the girl and together they ran off.

The next hour was tense as I waited. I looked over the contract and hoped that I didn’t spot any loopholes. The hour ended and I felt the web from Chompers flare.

“I’m back,” he said.

“Don’t cause trouble as you go into your circle,” I said.

He didn’t and I left him in his circle for the night.

***

I made sure to check the house again the next morning before Dad woke up. I couldn’t take the chance that Chompers had made plays while he was free that would set up circumstances so he’d have his freedom. I’d read the contract over again before going to sleep and I hadn’t seen anything, but I couldn’t let myself relax and wait for something bad to happen.

There was nothing and as I carefully went to the basement. _Sure_ that I had the attention turning rune so Dad wouldn’t come running in if something happened, I made sure to look around with the sight for anything that was hiding. There was nothing and I let myself breathe out a breath of relief.

Chompers was in his circle, his knees drawn and his face hidden.

I checked on Jonah who I hadn’t interacted with in a while and I made a mental note to at least do _something_ that would make him more useful. The idea of a hex still didn’t sit well with me, but it was better to have a hex that I could use against greater monsters.

There were also the elemental runes and how I hadn’t worked with them in a while. I had a few diagrams I’d made: The reinforced earth diagram which packed a wallop but drained a _lot_ of power; there was the diagram I used to make weighted paper which was easier to use; and there was the air diagram I’d made which had returned to me after I’d thrown it.

It was exciting that there was so much to do, especially when there was still so much on the horizon. There was the game and the work that would be done there, and the lessons that I would be taught. I was supposed to go to the an _Other_ place and I wanted to get a feel of that before whatever lay ahead with the game. Dennis had also taught me the diagram to make spirits stronger and I hadn’t used that yet.

 _Focus,_ I thought.

I had to meet Lisa around noon, which gave me a few hours to work before I had to leave.

I went to sit in the chair in front of Chompers. He looked up.

“How was your freedom last night?” I asked.

“Productive,” he said.

_Worrying._

I nodded and opened my notebook. “I saw a girl with you when I bound you and again when you were free,” I said. He sat straighter. “Who is she? Or what is she, if that’s more appropriate.”

Chompers’ mouth opened wide and out spilled a head. I _knew_ the circle would protect me, knew that it was unlikely that he could get through. But I scrambled back no less. My chair tipped back and I fell back _hard._ The impact jostled my arm and disturbed the wound at my neck which just brought with it a _world_ of ache.

I quickly got up, prepared to kick something away but Chompers hadn’t moved. He now sat cross legged, the head of an albino girl in his lap. The head’s mouth was open and though no sound came out, its expression was twisted in a scream; the head’s eyes were open wide as they searched for something; she was covered in fluids that weighed down her hair, and Chompers ran his fingers through to pull out some of the gunk.

I tried to speak but my breakfast rose up and shot out of my stomach with force. I tried to get my bearings and it didn’t work, the moment I turned my eyes back to the head my stomach rolled again.

There was something about throwing up that just left a person _weak_ and I felt it here. As though I’d gone on a long run, I was a bit hungry though I didn’t want to eat, my throat and nose burned, and my ears were filled with tears.

A laugh hit the air and surrounded me.

I wanted to tell him to stop, to hide the head, but as I tried to speak my body rebelled. I turned around and ran upstairs.

“Taylor,” said Dad as I ran through. “What’s going on?”

I didn’t answer and went into the bathroom and locked myself in.

 _Fuck him,_ I thought. But really, why was I surprised? I gave myself a few moments to clean my mouth and my face. Then took a few breaths to make sure I was okay.

 _Remember that this is a fight,_ I thought. _He’s trying to get out of this as much as possible. He’s trying to get under your skin so you make a mistake. Don’t give him that._

I took a few breaths until I was sure I was okay on an emotional level, then thought about what I’d tell Dad who was waiting outside in the hallway.

I opened the door and before he could ask, I said, “Girl problems.”

“Okay. If you need me to restock, I’ll be going to the store soon,” he said. “Might also head to the bank.”

“That’d be awesome, thanks,” I said.

Dad smiled. “Any plans for today?”

“I’m meeting a friend at the Star-Crossed Mall,” I said.

“Victoria Dallon?”

“Lisa,” I said.

Dad’s smile became brighter. “Have a good day out.”

“I’ll try,” I said. “Um…I sort of threw up in the basement so I’m going to clean that up.”

His brows rose. “If that happens again, it might be the medication, okay?” he said. “Tell me so we can tell the doctors that they aren’t sitting well.”

“Sure,” I said. I got a bucket and went downstairs, cleaned up the sick on the floor, all while in silence. I got back and sat on the chair. The head was cleaned, but now it didn’t have any eyes. I swallowed and spoke slowly so my discomfort wouldn’t be clear. “You were supposed to answer my question. I could say that the terms of our contract are broken and nullify it completely.”

“You’d lose,” he said with certainty. “This was the start of an answer, but you couldn’t wait to hear the rest of it. That’s not entirely my fault.”

I let out a breath. “Okay,” I said. “Then continue with the answer. Who or what is the girl?”

“This was her head when she first found me,” said Chompers. “She thought I was more innocent than I actually am and now she’s less than she was in the beginning.”

“Direct, please,” I said. “That hasn’t told me what she is.”

“She was entirely, and still is in some respects, a guardian spirit,” he said.

I frowned. “Why would a guardian spir…”

The thought connected. He’d had some control of the hands he’d made, and maybe after biting off the spirit’s head, it had been bound to him in some way.

“Tell me more about the type of guardian she was,” I said.

 _I’m not missing that this is all trying to get me not to ask questions about you,_ I thought. _That you don’t want me to figure out your secrets._

But I was going to play along with his game. Victoria and the others wanted to get as many gifts as they could from the Friend so they used a lot of power and was spent, and I could do something here. I could take away all the power that Chompers had and make him weaker for it.

“She’s something called an Alabaster,” he said. “That’s the name I’ve been able to find, though I haven’t been able to find much else about her, about them. But I’ve been around this one long enough to know how she works. She calls towards her the innocent and adrift: Children without homes or the mentally infirm.”

“Would it be correct to assume that your appearance played a part in why you were able to draw her to you?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

I jotted that down. “Why do you keep her?” I asked.

“She offers me food to chomp on,” he said and he smiled wide.

“How?” I asked as I tamped down the general anger I had. “If she was a guardian spirit, then how can she let you hurt people she’s bound to protect?”

Chompers brushed the hair of the head. “She’s not much of a fighter,” he said, “and I made sure she couldn’t fight me.”

“Is why she has the deer head?”

Chompers nodded.

“Does the head you hold bind her to you?” I asked.

“It does,” said Chompers. “Doubly so for the head she has. It was the third daughter of a third daughter three times over. There was magic to it. Pure and gentle, a woman of the times that would have become a good wife and mother. She doesn’t have a fang in her, all trusting. Saintly in a way.”

_This feels like a trap, like you’re leading me to something._

“Can you tell me where she is?” I asked.

Chompers smiled. “Hidden,” he said. “She has a sanctuary whose door is hard to find. I told her to hide and lock the door behind her. I’ve made a deal to hide the key that could gain anyone access.”

“I could order you to have the key given to me,” I said.

“You could, but I gave the key to another. It can only be given to me in my hour of freedom,” he said. “You could order me to fight to get it back, but I’m sure I would be sent to the Abyss in the process and she, as well as the people in her sanctuary, might be pulled in with me. She wouldn’t survive long. _They_ wouldn’t survive long.”

“You want to rework the terms of your binding,” I said.

“Yes,” he said. “There are so few guardian spirits left in the world, and more than a few are perverted. You don’t have to look far but to see the Alabaster of Brockton Bay to see an example. If you were to cleanse this Alabaster, you would make the world a better place.”

I took a breath. “If we were to make a deal,” I said, “what would be the terms?”

“My freedom,” he said. “One Other for another Other who holds a flock of innocents, so to speak.”

“I feel like there’s a trap in there somewhere,” I said.

“There might be,” he said and shrugged.

“What would happen if I asked you to give me that head?” I asked. “Ordered you to give it to me?”

The head was connected to the Alabaster and maybe I could use it to find the Alabaster, bind it and find a way to free it from Chompers’ influence.

“I would give it to you, but you wouldn’t be able to use it,” said Chompers. “There are three ways you can get something in this world: Either it’s freely given, it’s discarded and can be freely taken, or _earned_. You earned a gift for besting me and you chose my service. If you took the head, you would have to earn it another way or I would have to give it to you freely.”

“If I wanted the head, what would be the price?” I asked. “It has to be less than getting the Alabaster, right? Even if you gave me the head, it had less of a connection to her since you took it.”

“It’s still a lot of power,” he said. “Guardians have an aura about them. If I gave away this head, I would be giving away a cloak of innocence and the idea of safety. It would not be three moons, but it would be a large chunk of time, perhaps a month and a half?”

“That’s too much,” I said. “Half a month and I give you thirty more minutes.”

“A month and another hour,” he said. “The same terms would apply, but they would be from the hour of one and two in the morning.”

“No,” I said. “New terms added. You wouldn’t be able to interact with the Alabaster while you’re free.”

“I can still interact with it,” said Chompers. “But it cannot leave its sanctuary nor can it change the door to its sanctuary.”

I frowned. “I’ll write it down and we’ll work through it.”

It didn’t take an hour because a lot of the work had already been done with the first reading. Chompers and I signed the contract, and after removing the tags, he threw the head out of the circle.

 _Fucker,_ I thought as I noticed that he’d tricked me a little. He’d given me the head, but he’d kept parts of it. The left ear was too dark, there was a patch of black hair on her head, and, when she opened her mouth, her tongue seemed too big for her mouth and her teeth too sharp.

After the deal was made, the contract signed, the time Chompers would be with me had gone down a month and two hours each day, time that I was _sure_ would accrue and which I made the mental note get a sense of the two hours less I had him.

As disgusting as it was, I focused on the head and the webs that stretched from it. There were a lot more than I expected, certainly more than any person should have. I couldn’t count them all, but the sense I had of the webs stretching from the Alabaster’s head at least numbered three hundred, and I could guess that some of them were false lids because of the attached limbs.

It would be a _lot_ of work to eventually get a sense of it all, probably more than the two months I had with him.

_I guess you win round two in our little matches. That makes me trying to free the Alabaster from your influence all that more important a win._

I made a circle around the head, similar to the one around Chompers, then I moved a table so it was hidden in case Dad dropped in. He wasn’t, he’d been pretty good about not going into the basement and my diagrams secured it, but it was better to take protections.

I went upstairs and prepared for my day out with Lisa.


	10. Chapter 10

“What happened to your neck?” Lisa asked as we walked through an antique shop hidden in a nook in the mall. I always had the sight active, but now I paid attention through it so I wouldn’t miss anything.

Lisa’s idea. Apparently it wasn’t impossible that an object with some amount of power be sold in places like these or in old bookstores. It was unlikely that we’d find anything, but it was less about looking and more about being together.

“I messed up a binding,” I said. The store was cramped, with aisles filled with items big and small; to the sight everything had a _weight_ to it, a brightness that cast everything in a warm glow, but some were brighter than others. “I managed to get a Bogeyman into the house and it released a few things to get at me.”

Lisa’s expression was a little wide. “I hope your Dad didn’t find out,” she said.

I shook my head. “He’d already left, _thankfully._ But I had to go to hospital to get it checked out and they called the cops which meant I had to be careful what I said, but it worked out.”

“And the Other?”

“Still bound, and it’s better now,” I said. “I’m not sure if it’s a proper binding but it’s holding.”

Lisa stopped over a box. The web from the store owner flared. We turned in his direction and he eyed us with suspicion. Lisa checked over the box before she put it down.

“If you tell me what the Other is, I might be able to help you with the binding.”

I shook my head. “I’d like to figure things out for myself. Sorry if that’s a little rude.”

“No, I get it,” she said.

“But you could help me with something,” I said. “I usually do my work in the basement, but I can’t with Cho—”

“Don’t tell me its name,” Lisa interrupted.

I frowned. “Why?”

“If you give me the Other’s name, I’d be able to call it, and something like that isn’t something you give away for free. It’s knowledge you _offer_ to get something _.”_

“Okay,” I said. “I didn’t know that was a thing. Most of the people I’ve met, you and the rest of the Undersiders, Victoria and her friends. You’ve given me a lot without expecting repayment.”

“I mean we taught you because our backer asked us to,” she said. “Victoria…she’s a different beast. She likes to share knowledge which is sort of becoming the norm with the Protectorate but even that has conditions. Most others…it kind of depends? I’m sure the Wards are helping you because they want to seem like an option if you ever want a circle to join.”

“Everything has a price,” I said.

“Even if it’s abstract,” Lisa said with a nod. She looked me over. “Sorry if I’m bringing down the mood, just…” She shook her head.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Our backer wants us to try and get a guy named Trevor to join…you know him?”

“We met,” I said. “When I went out to the elves he was there.”

Lisa sighed. “Well our backer’s having us show him the ropes a little like we did you. I don’t mind if he joins, but…he’s still a kid in a way and I don’t want to send him into whatever our backer’s planning.”

“You could talk to him like you did me,” I said. “Ease him out of it.”

Lisa smiled. “Not many people are like you, Taylor,” she said. “Everything I see about the kid tells me he’ll be an Undersider pretty soon.”

“It’s his decision at the end of the day.”

“You’re right,” said Lisa. She smiled, but her features to the sight hadn’t changed. “Let’s not focus on that. Let’s focus on the Other you caught. How’s it treating you?”

“It’s…it’s getting under my skin,” I said. I sighed. “We’re sort of playing this game, there’s this other Other that the Bogeyman has that I want to free. We’ve both had minor victories against the other and I feel like we’re at round three.”

“That’ll decide things,” she said.

“I figured that. I’ve got about two months to figure things out and I hope I’ll know enough magic that I’ll figure things out. Which goes back to help I actually need. The Bogeyman is in a circle in my basement and it can be terrifying when it wants to be. I want to blind it so it can’t see outside the circle.”

“You could integrate a day rune into your circle and insulate against it or something like that,” she said.

“Insulate?” I said. Lisa looked at me with confusion. “What?”

“I…don’t understand how you can’t know what it means to insulate,” she said. “Have you been doing runes.”

“A few,” I said.

“How do they look?”

“Mostly symbols in circles,” I said and felt some embarrassment at it all, like there was something obvious I’d missed. “The most complicated is the diagram I used to make paper with the properties of rock, but it’s mostly interconnected circles.”

“I’m _so_ sorry,” said Lisa. “Sometimes it’s easy to forget what’s intuitive in this world. Do you remember what we said about lines?”

“Parallel to magnify and perpendicular to cut,” I said.

“Or block,” she said. “Similar properties. If you draw lines outside of a circle with a rune inside of it, then that radiates out. If you draw lines and close them off, you ward against the element within the circle. So if you had a day rune and warded against it, you would keep day, or ‘light’, out? I know some runes but I don’t work with them a lot.”

“Can you give me those runes?” I asked. “It’s something I’ll play with when I got home.”

She reached into her purse which made the web that stretched from us to the owner of the store flare bright. I turned in his direction and he looked at us with distrust. I didn’t blame him. We were too young to be in an antique store in the first place and we didn’t look rich enough to be able to afford anything in this place.

“Let’s head out to eat and I’ll draw them for you,” she said.

We went to the food court and had some burgers. She drew the night and day runes which looked the same save that the night rune was the day upside down. Like the triangles for the elements, a line to show the direction of the rune was needed. The rune itself was a circle with a line underneath and a thick base like made the entire rune look like a lamp. 

After we ate, we went to a bookstore.

“Romance?” I said. “Really?”

“Hey, don’t knock it,” Lisa said with a smile.

“I remember reading a few and they were _really_ boring,” I told her.

She shrugged. “I don’t understand romance,” she said. “But I appreciate it, in a way? I mean, some of them are really creepy, but some have the guy make a grand romantic gesture and I’m like, ‘ah, that’s cute, but girl you _really_ shouldn’t forgive him for the shit he’s pulled. Romantic gestures are _not_ true change.’”

I snorted. “How do you feel about rom-coms?” I asked. Lisa groaned. Which wasn’t an answer. “There’s one that’s out, you want to watch it?”

“Sure. Why not?” she said.

I smiled. “If you don’t want to watch it, then we don’t have to watch it,” I said.

“No. If you insist, I’ll watch it,” she said.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay you insist?”

“Sure. I insist.”

We went to go watch a movie that was honestly better than I expected.

Dad wasn’t home when I got back. I first checked the house to make sure nothing had gone out of the circle. I went into the basement and found Chompers in his circle, a torso with only one arm in his lap. He methodically worked through eating bits from the arm, with teeth so strong they bit through the arm in one bite. I looked from him to the head and I felt _so_ tired around the entire thing even if I wanted to get started on the investigation.

I went upstairs to my room with all my notebooks and my stick within arm’s reach so I could integrate everything I’d learned from Lisa today. There was the day and night rune, but of particular interest was the theory I’d gotten on lines and how to integrate them into circles.

Lines out radiated, lines with a cap in the shape of a ‘T’ were blocks and when they were reversed they were insulation. Triangles were directed and they moved towards a target, but what happened if they were drawn in?

I worked with the day rune first. The simple shape at the centre of the circle with a line to show direction. I looked at it with the sight and I saw as the spirits shifted within the piece of paper to make the paper glow brighter. I eased the sight and looked at the piece of paper again, it didn’t _glow_ but it caught the light and seemed to be starker against the light. When I put it in darkness, its glow stopped but the moment light touched it was attention grabbing.

I drew lines out from the circle, _radiating out,_ and this time the piece of paper _blazed_ with light. It wasn’t too bright, but it seemed to glow all on its own. I put it under my bed and even there it still glowed, though it was much dimmer.

I drew a line through the diagram and cut it off.

Next was the night rune. The piece of paper became less reflective and when I put it in darkness and looked away, the paper was surrounded by darkness. I had to use the thin web that stretched between me and the piece of paper to find it.

I drew radiating lines and the paper became black. I put it in shadow again, turned away and this time couldn’t find it even because the web stretching from me to the piece of paper wasn’t visible. I had to use a torch to find it, laying a bit away from where I’d put it.

Useful, but I had to make it so I couldn’t see into the circle and so Chompers couldn’t see me as I worked.

 _Should have thought to ask about sound nullification runes as well,_ I thought and then I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Victoria because I didn’t want to ask Lisa for too many things.

It honestly felt like she was my friend and I didn’t want our friendship to be me asking for help or asking for magical knowledge. It felt like it messed with things. But my relationship with Victoria wasn’t really a friendship, at least it hadn’t become that yet.

Victoria responded half an hour later of a symbol and with the message: _Price - What attacked you?_

Me: Bogeyman and improper binding. Still got the Other in a circle.

Victoria: Okay. If you need help. I’m here. If you’re not busy tomorrow, trip to the Ruins?

Me: OK. Text me details.

I kept up my work on the runes. I didn’t work with all of them, because I could imagine what fire radiated outward was and I didn’t want to test it out. When I did it with the water rune, water spilled out and wet the paper, but pretty quickly the ink of the lines were ruined and the spell was cut short.

I worked for a few hours before I felt tired and went upstairs. I took a bit of a nap and woke up as I felt a pull from one of the threads. I groggily woke up and followed the thread to get a sense of Dad as he walked up the stairs. The web flared as Dad knocked on the door.

I got up and hid all my magical stuff before I opened the door.

“Come downstairs,” Dad said. He tried and failed to hide his smile.

“Okay,” I said and I followed behind. My heart skipped a beat as I got to the living room to find that I now had a bike.

I couldn’t help it, I hugged Dad.

***

Helmet and protective gear on, the next day I biked through the city.

Brockton Bay wasn’t bike friendly, but with the sight I could get a sense of how people moved and I could get between them. My breaths came out in pants as I arrived in the North End in front of the best Elementary School in Brockton Bay.

I found the others in front of an expensive looking truck. Victoria with Dean and Dennis.

The ride, all things considered, was _exhilarating._

I had a giant grin as I stopped in front of them.

“New bike?” said Dennis.

“Yeah,” I said. I got off and pulled of my helmet, then elbow and knees pads which I put in my backpack. “My Dad bought it for me after I got attacked by the Bogeyman. I made him think that I was attacked while I was going to school.”

“How did you get a Bogeyman?” Dennis asked.

“I went out on a walk and it came after me,” I said.

“We’re going to have to hide that bike so it doesn’t get stolen,” said Dean. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of chalk. “Help me put it in the back.”

“Sure,” said Dennis and the two of them moved my bike to the back of the truck.

“Don’t scratch it, please,” I said. “It’s new.”

“We’ll try,” said Dennis.

“How did you bind the Bogeyman?” asked Victoria. “I haven’t bound one yet, but I’ve read the theory about them and I could loan you a book if you need it.”

“Um…a part of me wants to figure it out on my own,” I said.

“Okay,” she said. “I can understand that. You don’t mind me talking to you about what we’re going to be doing today, right?”

“Um—”

“Hey,” said Dennis as they finished putting the bike in place. Dean was still bent over to draw the diagram to keep my bike safe. There were people around us, not a lot because it was a Sunday, but their webs didn’t stray too close to us. “Did you bring your hex?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Bound and sealed in a physical object?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t take it out,” he said. He came up with an umbrella and tossed it over to me. I frowned as I caught it. “Good reflexes.”

“Thanks,” I said. I looked up, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

“It’ll make sense soon,” said Victoria. Dennis threw her umbrella and he had his own as he hopped down. “Check out the umbrella.”

I opened it and there was a diagram drawn on the top. It was a circle with a triangle at the centre and three lines to ward off water stretching from it at the top and at the base. I took a picture of the diagram.

Dean finished the diagram and hopped down. He had his own umbrella.

“Let’s get going,” he said.

“So, Taylor,” said Dennis as we walked. “How did you awaken? It doesn’t feel like you’re an apprentice or an Other chose to teach you the ways.”

“Uh…I can’t say,” I said.

 _“Can’t?”_ said Dennis and I felt webs of attention from each of them. I swallowed and looked down.

“You don’t have to answer anything you don’t feel comfortable with,” said Victoria. “Some people don’t awaken because of good things.”

I caught as the web between her and Dean flared with emotion, but it felt one sided. Victoria was more focused on Dennis and that web flared too.

“Okay. Okay,” he said. “I’ll drop it.” He shrugged. “It’s something I’ve been wondering about, anyway. Trevor already shared his thing. An uncle of his died and his stuff was sent to them. He picked up a book and that had the Awakening Ritual.”

“How did you awaken?” I asked. “Were you chosen by someone or an Other?”

“Person,” he said. “It was after a medical thing where I was left hollowed out. I saw crazy things and I was lucky that there are people on the lookout for that sort of thing and they found me before I lost it. Now I get regular lessons from Ethan or Bernie which is cool.”

“Who are Ethan and Bernie?”

“Ethan is Officer Williams’ husband,” said Victoria, “and I don’t think you’ve met Bernie yet.”

“He travels a lot,” said Dennis. “He’s been gone for the last few months. Last time I heard he was taking care of something up north.”

“We’re here,” said Dean as we reached a queer centre. The building looked much newer from than the surrounding buildings and there was a lot more security through the cameras. We stopped short of them seeing us and Dean started to draw on the wall.

“We’re going to the Ruins,” said Victoria. “Which is like the recycling bin for abstract beings. You’ll see for yourself when we get there, but the place is ruinous, but the things that stick out are those that have fallen and been built up again.”

“Which is why we came to this place,” said Dennis. “The Nazis don’t like anyone who’s different from them and this place is where differences are shown proudly. They hit it sometimes but the damage never sticks.”

“There’s love to this place,” Victoria added. “And that makes it a good entry point into the Ruins.”

Dean, I realised, was drawing a door. It was taller than we were, under an arch that reminded me of designs I’d seen in castles. At the head of the arch was a symbol, but from the moment he’d drawn it, it was smudged by water, old and ruinous.

He finished the door by drawing a doorknob.

He spat on his hand and went to grab the knob. His hand reached _into_ the wall before it twisted. I heard as an old door clicked open. He pushed and the door opened with a loud groan. Beyond stood the same alley we were in but the building beyond was a husk, with part of a wall jutting up, its edges smoothed by water.

It was a shape in the darkness, covered by a torrential rain that was hard to see through.

“I think I’ll need to protect my backpack if I’m going to go through that,” I said.

“The umbrella should keep it dry,” said Dennis. “As long as you don’t lose it.”

Dean readied his umbrella and stepped through. Victoria followed shortly after, then Dennis and finally me.

The rain fell hard but the rune on the umbrella kept me dry, with an effect to it that changed the direction of how the rail fell so it wouldn’t even get my legs wet. But the ground pooled with water, there wasn’t mud, but I was sure my shoes wouldn’t come out of the experience unscathed.

Dean closed the door behind us and drew a symbol on the doorknob.

I looked around. The centre had been destroyed too, but it was in much better condition than everything else. The city was covered in darkness, so much that the buildings of the North End were shadowy outlines. To my right I caught someone or something, a dark shape, androgynous with their back bent and long hair drooping to the ground.

“Gallant Knight,” said Dean. “Come out.”

A man dressed in silver armour stepped out from behind him, stepping into the rain. Instantly he was drenched, with wisps of smoke rising off him the longer he spent in the rain.

“Should we be worried about anything here?” I asked.

“Not usually,” said Dennis. “I usually come here on my own and I’ve been fine. But ugly stuff can lurk here, desperate stuff.”

I nodded as I looked around. Dean set the course and we followed. We walked out to a sidewalk and ignored more shadowy figures. There were no roads, only deep, dark crevices which divided the city into true blocks.

“How will we get over?” I asked.

“There’ll be ropes,” said Dennis. He walked next to me while Victoria, Dean and the Gallant Knight walked ahead of them.

“What’s going on there?” I asked. “Dean, I don’t really know him but seems distant.”

“They have fights,” said Dennis. “You get used to it.”

“That’s a fight?”

“That’s being passive aggressive,” Dennis whispered. “Anyway, don’t let them ruin this for you.” He grinned as he looked at me, then frowned. “It was a pun.”

“I know it was a pun,” I said. “I thought it was an accident and we could just move past it.”

He winced. “My heart,” he said and then he chuckled.

“Can you tell me more about this place?”

“Sure,” he said. “It’s the place where abstract things are taken apart.” He pointed at a figure in the darkness:

It was a man, sickly thin, curled into a ball, the rain falling hard around him; he had red skin, the flesh twisted by a fire, it looked like the very water that touched him brought him pain. Another man, dressed in slacks and a sweater with a cap on, his face desiccated and a cigarette in his mouth, walked towards the burnt man. The burnt men shifted, did his best to crawl away but he couldn’t move fast enough. The desiccated man walked _through_ him and both broke apart, when they reformed, the desiccated man looked as if he’d been burnt, a glow emanating from inside his body. The new man still had cigarette at his mouth, but unlike before, smoke drifted up from it.

“When they’re weak the others surround them and take pieces to shore themselves up.”

 _Just like Chompers does with the things he eats,_ I thought, but he did it in the real world instead of here.

Dennis pointed at something else, a woman with large eyes, her arms wrapped around herself and her gaze shifted to take in threats.

“She’d be good to have and strip apart,” said Dennis. At my raised brow he said, “She looks scared and you could strip that aspect off to make that hex of yours better at getting a sense of how to move.”

“But she’d lose more of herself? _”_ I asked.

“Yeah,” said Dennis. “Everything has a price. You take something and you leave something else _bereft_. But…I don’t know, maybe that’s better? Because…she’s an echo, or a ghost. Something so bad happened to her that her fear left in imprint on the world.”

 _Abuse_ was my first thought and I saw more of it as I looked at the woman. Another figure walked near her but she’d already spotted the being and moved out of the way, hopping through the window of a building to hide.

“We could release her,” I said. “I released a ghost before.”

He frowned. “That’s…” He sighed. “That’s not as clear cut as you think it is. You don’t just do away with power, it doesn’t just go away. What happened was maybe you fed the aspect of the ghost that was so strong it could cast out of this place, but there were still a lot of aspects to it, smaller aspects, and those you didn’t feed and they’re still here and they were grabbed by something else.”

“Sometimes this stuff feels all too shitty,” I muttered.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s something you get used to and learn to look past.”

“But is that good?”

“It _is,”_ he said. “No good or bad about it mostly.”

I sighed.

“Do you want it? It’ll be a little harder, but we could catch it,” he said. “Make that hex of yours better.”

“I’ve been thinking about something that’ll warn me about stuff,” I said. “I got attacked and I spend a lot of time every time I go back home searching for things that might have gotten out. Could we get started working on that?”

“Sure,” said Dennis. “Yo!” The others turned. “Splitting up!” Victoria gave us the thumbs up. “Turn away attention,” he said. “We’ll keep something in front of us so she doesn’t see us without any extra senses and we’ll pounce when we’re close.”

“How are we going to _catch_ her?” I asked. “Can we interact with her? Isn’t she abstract?”

“She’s tangible enough to be touched here,” he said.

I nodded and I drew out the directed attention on the back of my hand. I caught Dennis’ attention blocker and it was different from mine, a little more complicated. It was a circle with two intertwined diamonds, he drew out lines that were capped in the shape of a ‘T’.

I filed away that the intertwined diamonds were connected to attention, which made sense with the diagram Victoria and Chris had drawn out.

“Try and not focus on me,” he said. “My thing isn’t like yours.”

“Okay,” I said and I ignored him as I focus on the woman and the web that stretched between us. I looked at her with my peripheral vision, always keeping something between us as I moved.

I closed my umbrella as I got into the building she was in and made sure to follow her while keeping my attention away. There was Dennis to think about, but I did my best not to look at his web and how it flailed without connecting directly to him.

I got into the room she was in, a large, open space with a few windows at the end. There wasn’t anything I could use to for cover. I pulled out my pen and drew out an encircled night rune with radiating lines. I looked down at myself and found that darkness stuck to me.

Thankfully there was a _lot_ of darkness in this place, with the rain outside and what little light there was. I snuck into the room and I walked along the walls. So close, I could see as the ink at the back of my hand thinned quicker.

 _Gotta go for it,_ I thought.

The spell broke and her web connected and flared. I bolted just as she darted towards a window.

A boy appeared.

“Late! Late! Late!” the boy said as he ran faster than he should and _slammed_ into the woman before she could reach the window.

I reached them and I threw myself into the fight as the woman succeeded in throwing off the boy.

“Good job,” said Dennis. “Come back.”

The boy ran at Dennis and disappeared into a toy watch.

“You won’t win a fight,” said Dennis. “She’s too _heavy.”_

“Agree to be bound to me,” I said. “Stay close and follow my word.”

“I—” her voice broke. “I agree. _Please.”_

My stomach twisted, but I did my best not to think about it as we went for the next Other.

***

We managed to get four spirits and we used a ruined building with enough there that it blocked off a lot more of the rain. The diagram was four large circles connected to a bigger central triangle through pipes of different sizes.

“Why are we doing this when they just walk into each other?” I asked.

“Two reasons,” he said. “One, ever see those people that throw paint at a canvass to get a picture?” I nodded. “When spirits come together like that, walk through each other, metaphorically, they’ve got unwieldy buckets full of paint. They’re throwing them but they can’t decide beforehand what the final picture’s going to be.”

“Isn’t that the point of those art pieces?” I asked.

“No idea,” said Dennis. “I don’t get them. Anyway, we want to sort of have a picture of what we’re doing so we have balloons filled with paint instead of big buckets. Metaphor still going.”

“Do you need to say that?” I asked.

“The spirits can be dumb sometimes,” he said. 

I snorted. “So there’s still the risk we don’t know what we’re going to get?” I asked. “We just know the direction things are leaning?”

He nodded. “The best way to get the type of spirit you want is to feed their nature slowly, build it up through making them do their _thing._ If you’re working with a fire spirit, you might want to make two fire spirits come together which might fill them with other things. Or you could have them burn places down to feed their nature and make an impact. The second one is better if you want a distinct sort of thing.”

“Okay, reason number two?”

“Two, we’re _pushing_ things together,” he said as he finished off the diagram. “All of these guys are full and they don’t really need to shore themselves up. On their own they would just _be,_ but we want to make a complex spirit so we have to force them together.”

“If they’re full, will there be spill like adding more water into a full glass?” I asked.

“There will be,” said Dennis. “Which is why we have these triangles in the central circle.” He pointed at the dark triangles at the border of the central circle which pointed out of the circle. “They’re escaping a little which means they’re jetting out and the fact that they’re filled in means they’re empty.”

“So…they’re sort of a funnel?” I asked. “Pushing excess energy out?”

He nodded.

“Could we gather that energy?” he asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “We could add circles so the energy jets into them, but that would need a _lot_ of work to make the entire thing be balanced. Not worth it to do it on the fly.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’m still trying to make sense of all this.” I swallowed and felt embarrassed. “I didn’t learn until yesterday that you can use lines to radiate, block or insulate.”

“You’re still new,” said Dennis. “It takes a while to get used to this stuff if you didn’t grow up with it.”

“How long have you been a Practitioner?” I asked.

“Over two years now,” he said. “But there’s still a _lot_ I don’t know. Learning every day, in a manner of speaking. Okay, going to finish it off.”

He closed off a line and everything shifted. Lines moved and drew in towards the central circle. Each of the ghosts and spirits were turned to wisps and they were sucked into the central circle, the congealed as a mass while some of the wisps shot out of the circle.

I spotted other things crawl into the room with us, men and women, dogs and cats and snakes.

“Don’t worry, they shouldn’t attack us,” said Dennis.

The beings ate the wisps that shot out and some fought each other, breaking apart and coming together again a singular bigger being, or different beings with one bigger than the other. 

A man came in, dressed in white like a southern gentleman, with a whip held in his hand, its tip red with blood.

“Nope,” said Dennis. His hand rose to show a golden watch and a clockwork man a few inches shorter than I was appeared in a flash of light. The clockwork man had no weapons but he moved at great speed as he darted forward. In the space of a second the clockwork man held the gentleman in a hug and held him in place.

“What is that?” I asked.

Dennis swallowed. “America has a _very_ dark past,” he said. “It’s filled with the blood of a lot of people. Native American, Black and Asian people, and that left a mark, places drenched with blood and very big curses left by disgruntled peoples. But that history is also filled with masters, people whose cruelty was so pervasive that spirits of the sentiment are still here today.”

We’d only been able to get _four_ spirits, but they hadn’t been the only ones we’d chased. A _lot_ had been Black and Latino men or a mix of the two. Dennis had described them as the echoes left behind from each person of colour who’d been stopped by the police for no reason.

“Probably doesn’t help that America’s still so racist,” I said.

“It doesn’t,” said Dennis.

The central circle started to spin, it was made out of three parts and each spun in a different direction. The vent of excess energy got thicker as the circles started to squeeze tighter into the centre. The sound of gears grinding against each other reverberated.

A man appeared and all the spirits around him moved away. It wasn’t a full person, but the _hole_ of one. When they moved, the world bent and spiritual stuff was sucked in.

“Cranker,” said Dennis. “Throw him in.”

The clockwork man shifted and the man in white was thrown. The empty man darted forward and sucked the other one in.

“Now keep him back.”

For a few seconds there was no movement. Then the clockwork man darted forward and _shoved._ The empty man was thrown back and sent through a wall into the rain.

The sound around us stopped and the spirit stuff congealed into a form. The spirit was neither a man nor a woman, they were a teenager with big scared eyes and bigger ears; they were short and thin, battered with bits of bruising visible. They were dressed in a dress with jeans visible beneath, not boots on, only feet covered with mud. It was scary though, because they seemed _so_ tired, as if the weight of the world fell on their shoulders.

“Victoria said you name your Others,” said Dennis.

“Uh…can you leave for a bit? Name are important and I don’t want you to be able to summon them.”

“Oh, there needs to be a _lot_ more than a name,” said Dennis. “The name helps, but I’d knew to know what _they?”_ I nodded. “What they are like. I’d need to call, build up who they are to solidify the link so they came.”

“Amber,” I said.

“Okay,” he said.

“Amber,” I said. “I bind you to my service.” Amber nodded. “You are not to harm me, my father or my interests while in my service. Now come and keep close.”

Amber stepped over the lines. They kept close. They drooped but there was a keen awareness of surroundings.

“We’d better head out,” said Dennis.

“Victoria and Dean.”

“Already there,” he said.

We found them in front of the door with kids aged seven to fourteen around them. There were thirteen of them in all. They opened the door and we stepped through into the real world.

“Let’s get going,” said Dean, his voice hard. Victoria sighed.

“What’s with the kids?” I asked Dennis because Victoria and Dean were going through things. The kids talked and some pushed each other, but try as I might, I couldn’t understand what most were saying.

“Preparation for the Friend,” he said. “They’ll fill the car with jaunty conversation and laughter so we can plan. Everything counts, right. We don’t know how pissed the Friend will be, especially when the Shuddering Salamanders have their go through.”

We reached the car and I got my bike. I thanked the others then biked back home with Amber still close. Amber ran like the wind because one of the spirits we’d found was that of a runner and from the looks of him he’d been bullied, the hardest successful catch.

We moved through traffic and got home. Dad was out in the backyard talking with Jaden’s older brother Marshall. It was a little surprising because I’d heard that Marshall had moved to New York, but I didn’t keep good track of our neighbours and he could have been back for a while.

“You have permission to come in so long as you don’t cause trouble,” I told Amber and we walked in. Dad didn’t notice as I came in. “You’re supposed to be able to sense danger, have a sixth sense for it.”

The diagram Dennis had used wasn’t one of the best ways to create a complex spirit. Dennis had described it as the equivalent of throwing blobs of paint at a canvass. Some people could make it work, they could express themselves through it, but for most people it ended up a mess of colours with no rhyme, reason or theme.

We’d gone for a spirit that could look for trouble and warn me, and that was how Dennis had structured the diagram. But there hadn’t been fine control to the process and some useful bits might have been lost.

“The man,” said Amber with a point at Dad. They swallowed. “He scares me.”

“Dad?” I asked and I stopped myself as the impulse came to look at him with the sight. I good enough and directing focus that I could look around him and see that there was nothing magical and he wasn’t in danger, but I didn’t look at him directly. It was too personal.

Amber nodded.

“He’s…I don’t think he’s dangerous. Um…maybe ignore him. I want you to search for magical dangers in the house and warn me. In particular, pay attention to any Others I keep in the basement and any stuff they release.”

“Yes,” they said. “I’ll do it.”

“Go ahead,” I said.

They ran off. There was a web that connected them to me and I used it to look at them as they moved. They ran through the house, turning things over to look under them. I went to the kitchen as they searched through a cupboard, without the sight, it looked like a strong wind rushed through, opening and closing things, the sound of dishes as they were being moved.

One of the spirits had been a thief who’d grown out of it and cast off their thievish impulses, and I could see that in how Amber moved, how they didn’t really care about the result of their search.

“Be more careful,” I said. “And make sure that Dad doesn’t see you.”

I wasn’t really sure what the rules were. They were a spirit but some spirits could be seen by people, while ghosts were supposed to be invisible.

Amber still moved, but there was a care to their movements and how they looked around.

_A cat burglar coming in the night._

I stowed my bike and then went to check on Chompers. He was in his circle, sitting without moving. The Alabaster head was still in its circle and that still made my stomach twist. It was just better not to deal with that. I still couldn’t get used to the literal _head_ that I’d have to work with.

_I still have time and I have to work on a diagram to hide everything I do from Chompers._

I went upstairs to get started in collating my notes.

My door opened thirty minutes in and Amber walked in. They started to move through everything in search of anything problematic. I ignored them as much as I could. They closed the door quietly as they left.

They went to Dad’s room next.

Dad got in and came up. He knocked and opened the door.

“How was your day?” he asked.

“Good,” I said. “Was that Marshall? Has he been back a while?”

Dad shook his head. “There’s problems with his Mom, she might be sick and he’s back to take care of Jaden so social services doesn’t get involved,” he said.

“Oh, do you know what’s wrong?” I asked.

“It might be a mental break,” said Dad. “She’s in hospital until they figure things out.”

“I hope she gets better,” I said.

“Yeah,” Dad said with a sigh. “I don’t think they need those kinds of problems. Well, it seems like you’re busy. I’m going to hop out for a bit, night out with the guys.”

“On a Sunday?”

“We’re not going to get too rowdy,” said Dad with a smile.

“Bye,” I said.

“Bye.”

Amber came back a while later. “There’s trouble,” they said. “But I don’t understand. The circle’s thin.”

I got up and went to check Chompers’ circle. The lines I’d used as pillars within the borders of the circle had started to thin and one of them threatened to break. I looked at Chompers.

“Did you do this?” I asked.

“I did,” he said.

With a sigh I redrew the lines, all while I did my best to make sure I didn’t look at the circle with the Alabaster’s head. I got that done and went upstairs to finish off the work on my notes.

Dad wasn’t back for dinner and he wasn’t back when I let out Chompers nor when he returned. But when I woke up to let Chompers out for the second time he was in bed.

School the next day was boring, though Tammi the Nazi had a bruised eye and a cut lip which brought a smile to me as I imagined that the ‘curse’ me and the others had made had gotten to her. It made me think about sending Jonah after her for a second before it hit me how stupid an idea that would be.

I _really_ needed a way to naturally feed Jonah, but since he was a hex, that meant letting him give people bad luck. I thought about doing what I’d done to Johnathan, he was a person who _really_ deserved bad luck, but I didn’t want to make a habit of that and get in trouble with the Protectorate.

So I was left with nothing to really do about Jonah except leave him in the lunch box.

The week passed quickly. I settled into something of a routine of waking up to free Chompers. I kept up my practice with the day, night and silence runes as I tried to figure out a diagram that would keep Chompers out of the loop most of the time but allow me to turn it on and off easily when I wanted to interview him.

I got a text from Victoria on Thursday that the Shuddering Salamanders would go through the game and there’d be a meeting the next day to figure out anything new. Which made me think about Trevor.

 _“Yo, Taylor,”_ he said.

“Hey. Victoria wants us to meet up with her tomorrow,” I said. “Did she call you already?”

 _“Eric called to tell me, but I’m busy,”_ I said.

“Too busy for the game?”

 _“Yeah,”_ he said. _“I sort of joined the Undersiders and we’re after a Revenant that’s been going through the Lower Bay. I think I’m going to be busy for a while.”_

“Okay,” I said. “Stay safe out there.”

 _“As much as we can,”_ he said. _“You too. Bye.”_

I did my work on the diagram, but things weren’t panning out and I _hated_ that Chompers had freaked me out enough that he now had my space. That was a victory all on its own and I didn’t want to give that to him, not when a spirit that helped people was warped into something ugly because of him.

But on Thursday I couldn’t muster enough will to go in there and deal with the Alabaster head so I made up my mind to do it on Friday because I _had_ to.

“You’re back little Practitioner,” Chompers said as she took. “I thought I’d scared you off for good.”

I took a long deep breath and ignored the head in the distance.

“I’ve been busy,” I said.

He smiled. “That’s not all of it, is it?” he said.

I didn’t answer. The reason I’d pushed myself to be here, above everything else, was the fact that I’d be at Victoria’s place again and if things were drawn out again, I wouldn’t lead Chompers out of the house.

“I’m visiting a friend,” I said, “and I’m not sure when I’ll come back so there’s a chance you miss getting you out of the house. I want us to make a deal and maybe this deal will set the terms of future deals between us.”

“Consider me interested,” he said.

I swallowed and nodded. “I will give you freedom under the same terms as our contract. It’ll stretch from the moment I release you until eleven,” I said. “But you will give me something from your stomach that’ll be useful to me.”

“Useful?” he said. I nodded. He threw up a pair of eyes into his hands. I swallowed.

_What did I expect?_

“What can the eyes do?” I asked.

“Put one in your head and you’ll be able to see through the other,” he said. “Or perhaps,” he threw up a tongue. It was black and scabby, with green pustules growing all over it. “The tongue of a good liar. It has a few good lies.”

I frowned. “How does that work?” I asked. “Practitioner have to tell the truth or they lose power.”

“It’ll take on the debt of a lie,” he said. “But it does leave a sourness in one’s mouth.”

“Metaphorically or literally?” I asked.

“Both,” he said.

“What about the eye,” I said. “Does it have a price like that?”

“The man who had that was short-sighted,” said Chompers.

“Meta—”

“Both,” he interrupted.

“Anything else?” I asked. I didn’t need worse vision.

Chompers threw up the skin from a pair of hands that had been perfectly peeled, with nails and all. My stomach jumped and bile rose up my throat before it settled, but it left behind a burn.

“The hands of a lockpicker,” he said.

“Let me guess, they’ll do something like leave my hands twisted or something?” I muttered.

“You might find your hands have something of a mind of their own,” he said. “They might steal without you meaning to while you aren’t paying attention.”

“And I’ll get hit by the bad karma for stealing?” I asked.

“Of course,” he said.

“Do you have anything that’s just power?” I asked. “Something I could use to fuel spells. A general source of power?”

He ate the hands and threw up a long finger that looked more like a talon than the finger of a hand.

“A finger from another Bogeyman,” he said.

I could crush the bone and maybe inject it into ink or make chalk with it like Victoria did.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll accept that. Let’s make the deal.”

“Excellent,” said Chompers in a way that gave me serious doubts.

Even so, we struck the deal.


	11. Chapter 11

“I don’t think we’ve met,” said Mrs Dallon.

“Um…I don’t think so too, ma’am,” I said and swallowed.

It wasn’t Amy or Victoria who’d opened the door, but Mrs Dallon still dressed in work clothes and her hair done up. She didn’t look too different with the sight, but like Victoria, she had an aura about her that seemed to run off in waves, though hers was thicker and it bunched up against and _threw_ me.

“You may come in,” she said.

I nodded. “Thank you for your hospitality, ma’am,” I said as I walked in. The hall that lead into the house wasn’t any smaller than it had been when Amy had invited me in, but now it felt cramped. I was all too aware of how close Mrs Dallon was.

“Victoria told me you’re still relatively new into the practice,” she said after she closed the door.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

“And I take it that the wound on your neck is a result of your inexperience,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She walked past me and I followed, almost drawn in.

“It would be better for you if you were a part of the Wards,” she said. “There are many dangers in the world of the practice, and to tackle them alone is idiocy in most cases.”

“I hope to be the exception,” I said.

She hummed. “Let me not keep you,” she said.

I nodded and went ahead. I glanced back without turning my head and I saw that her eyes were on me. I felt as she sensed my attention, but before she could look back I turned away. I walked into the basement where most of the others had already arrived.

Carlos ate a sandwich that was also covered in blood through the sight; Chris worked on connecting his laptop to a projector; Dennis talked to Amy; Eric played a video game; and Victoria looked up to smile in my direction. It was a good act, but I could see with the sight that the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Dean wasn’t here and the last time I’d seen the two of them, they’d been going through something. Maybe I was wrong, but I could guess why something off.

“Taylor,” she said. “Good, you’re finally here. We can make the call.”

I nodded and made sure _not_ to ask about Dean. I didn’t know anything about relationships or breaking up with someone, but reminders likely didn’t help.

“Chris?” she said.

“A minute, maybe more, maybe less,” said Chris. “I’ll tell you when I’m done.”

Victoria nodded. “How did Mom treat you upstairs?” Victoria asked.

“Your mom’s a _very_ intimidating woman,” I said.

Victoria frowned a little.

“What?” I asked.

“Um…” She sighed. “Okay, so…as a part of karma, if it’s used in the right way, people with better karma can sort of tilt things in interactions with those that have worse karma than them.”

“Your mom did that to me?” I said and I wasn’t sure what to feel.

“Not intentionally,” she said. “But Mom knows how to work karma and she’d gotten to the point that it always gives her an edge. It’s…maybe you don’t have a lot good karma in the first place? Or there’s enough of an imbalance that you feel the effects of it even more? Do you feel anything when you’re with me?”

“I don’t think so, no,” I said. I frowned. “I…” and I stopped. I felt a bit of heat touch my cheeks.

“What?” said Victoria.

“I did feel something,” I said. “Just…I don’t know, maybe a bit jealous? You, uh, you look good in an effortless kind of way.”

“Thank you for the compliment,” she said. “But trust me it takes a _lot_ of work.” Victoria shrugged. “That might be it. Mom gives me some of her karma and I work to nurture it too. It’s not to her level, but people treat me differently because of it.”

“Can I guard against it?” I asked.

“Not guard in the traditional sense,” she said. “But you can keep an eye out on what you feel and that sort of thing. You have to _really_ think about what you’re feeling and how you react to situation, make sure the actions and reactions you make are yours instead of being driven by other things. Instinct is important, but instinct can also be co-opted so you have to logic through emotions.”

“I’ll make a note,” I said as I made a mental note.

“Okay,” said Chris. “I’m calling.”

He pressed a few commands on his laptop before the Swoosh call started. Chris had set things up so that the feed took video from a camera he’d connected to his laptop, the return image was projected onto a bit of wall and the sound came out from a set of speakers. It was a few seconds before the call went through.

The guy that appeared was in his early twenties, he had dark skin, dreadlocks that had been styled in something complicated and an old scar visible on his bicep. They were a team of four and behind the guy I could see signs of a studio apartment and a wall covered with painted sigils and symbols.

“Hey, Jameel,” said Carlos. “How did things go?”

Jameel sighed. “I think we might have lost someone.”

The words cut through our group. People had been spread apart and now they came together, their attention on the projected image.

“You _think?”_ said Victoria.

Jameel swallowed. “Five people went to visit the Friend and five people came back, but the Salamander didn’t recognise one of us above the gift that I was given,” he said and he sounded _so_ tired.

“Who did you lose?” Carlos asked.

“I don’t know,” said Jameel. “Everything’s been written over. We came back to the base and it was after…well, it was after an incident. Some of our stuff had been burned in a fire, it happens every so often and we have protections, but some of them didn’t hold and stuff that would have told us who disappeared was burned.”

“But you’re sure you lost someone?” said Victoria.

“Better if I just start from the beginning,” Jameel said. “At least the bits that I can remember. Things were worse like we all thought, it was raining and the road was slippery which made driving _so_ hard. It was hard to see and I’m sure we missed a few of the sculptures, we passed the village and got into the turn before we hit a ditch and couldn’t get out. We had to walk the rest of the way.”

“Four or five you?” Victoria asked.

Jameel closed his eyes. “Four,” he said. “And then we met the Man on the roadside. We kept walking, there were wolves but they didn’t bother us, there were the goats but they just looked at us and we walked through them. We reached the areas with the places and we went into the school, got some good bits of knowledge and moved on. We got to where the Man was supposed to go home, but he told us that he could visit the Friend and he wasn’t going to miss the opportunity.”

“First sign something was wrong,” someone said off screen.

Jameel looked in the direction and then nodded. “First sign that something was wrong,” he said. “We tried all we could to get the Man to go home, we offered him bits of power, tried to do the same thing Weld and his group did but he didn’t budge. We decided it was better to keep moving, it just felt right, you know?”

“What happened?” asked Carlos.

“The Friend was _happy,”_ said Jameel. “It was strange, but I kept my head straight and asked for a tour before we could eat. They said yes and I looked around. The house isn’t too big, pantry downstairs, one bedroom and a toilet with plumbing, they had a study and I glanced through their collection, some of the titles were familiar, written by Practitioners. The oldest with a date I could see was twenty years old, it looked professionally printed and everything. Sally asked the Friend about the books, and the Friend said they were from another time.

“There was also something strange Drew saw in one of the windows. It was a road. It hadn’t been used in a while and it had grass growing over it, but Drew had good eyes for the trip and she spotted it. We asked the Friend about it but they didn’t answer. We gave the Friend their gifts and they gave us ours. That’s when they told us that an impostor would leave with us. When we got out, the Man followed and walked through into the real world. It was then that the pieces sort of fit, there were gaps but we knew that five people had come. We didn’t think it was the Man and we almost pushed it aside, but the Salamander reacted to him and that was enough to give us pause.”

“Fuck, man,” said Dennis.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Victoria.

Jameel sighed. “I think what hurts a lot is the fact that I don’t who it was, what family they had or any arrangements we have to make,” he said. “I don’t know _where_ we lost them and how we could get them back. There’s stuff around, stuff they left, but none of the things that could help us find them. We have a major binding for the first time in what feels like forever, but the price, even if we don’t remember it, is terrifying.”

“Can I come over?” said Carlos. “I’ll call the Ladies of Perpetual Ambivalence and we could search your place for _something._ Maybe we can look for whoever you lost when you get there.”

“That would be a real help,” said Jameel. He sighed. “I know you guys want to get to all the details, but…I’m just not up to it.”

“I think we understand,” said Victoria. Jameel pressed a button and the picture flicked off.

“Well fuck,” said Eric. “This got a lot more terrifying.”

“How is that possible?” I asked. “It made an entire person disappear from the world?”

“It’s powerful,” said Carlos. “Or maybe it’s not powerful, but…it’s tied to something more fundamental? There aren’t a lot of things that can do damage of that type, clear memories and cause that large of a ripple.”

“Some gods can do it,” said Dennis.

 _“Gods?”_ said Eric. “We could be dealing with a god?”

“No, I don’t think so,” said Victoria. “Gods use champions. This is a _game._ Something close to a ritual incarnate but with a practitioner’s hand.”

“How did you get to that?” I asked. “Sorry if this is stuff you talked about before.”

“A ritual is something that occurs naturally and drives a certain point,” said Carlos. “A ritual of strife would be _like_ a game but at the end it would increase the amount of strife in the world. There aren’t a lot of rituals that I have access to, so I can’t be more concrete with the examples. But as far as we can figure it, this is a game because it stems from the hands of Practitioners and humans—”

“We think,” said Chris. “We can’t be sure, but timelines and everything we’ve gathered makes that most likely.”

“Games are younger,” said Carlos. “They’re rituals, _sure,_ but they’re rituals that are either still finding their own feet or they’ve been taken over.”

“That’s what you think happened here?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Victoria. “We think it might have started as something like an urban legend, a game that kids could play when they’re bored and narratives added into it.”

“Similar to a Bugge,” said Eric.

I shook my head. “I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s like an imaginary friend but belonging to a lot of people and it becomes so real that it can become an Other,” he said.

I frowned. I still couldn’t see it.

“But now you don’t think what you thought is true?” I asked.

“We think we might have underestimated it,” said Carlos. “If something can make a ripple like that it’s _far_ larger than we thought or it’s tied into something else.”

“We’ll have to go back to basics,” said Victoria. “Compile everything we’ve gathered and look at it again with everything we know. The Friend managed to get a Practitioner and that means they may have the Practitioner’s power. We might have to call in more people if we want to work through the ritual.”

“You’re still going through with it?” I asked. “Even with the risk?”

“Yeah,” said Dennis. “But we get if you don’t want to.”

“No,” I said. I shook my head. “I mean… This thing took a person, maybe it’s been taking people the same way. I want to help.”

“Then let’s start working,” said Victoria.

“I’ll bring in coffee,” said Amy.

“Tea for me, please,” I said. She smiled and nodded.

“What we know so far,” said Victoria. “We first discovered it because of a site some technomancers were trawling through that had the game. We looked into it and found that it was connected to a few places and a few people. The fact that it used technology and that wording on the instructions said _drive_ made us think that it might be newer, which was why we hadn’t heard a lot about it, though people might have disappeared because of it.”

“Which might now be false because the memories might have been taken out of our heads,” said Dennis.

“It would have been noticed sooner if it did this to a Practitioner,” said Carlos. “If it caught a lot of innocents then they wouldn’t miss spirits nudging things to take elements of the lost away.”

“Wait,” I said. “Um…forgotten things go to the Abyss and this person was forgotten. Could it be connected to this?”

“The Abyss _is_ fundamental,” said Dennis. I felt a well of pride that, even if I was most likely wrong, that I was helping.

“If it’s the Abyss, then we can’t win,” said Victoria. “It’s old and _big_ and supposed to be scary.”

I thought about Chompers. “Yeah. I can see that.”

“There’s sign that it might be,” said Chris. “Um, one of the instructions to the second turn. If you don’t make the turn, then you could go into the Beneath. My files say the Abyss is called by a lot of different names, the Beneath, the Grunge and the Bottom are some of them.”

“But why would the Abyss be connected to _this?”_ Victoria muttered. “Why would it make something close to a ritual? _Could_ it make something close to a ritual? This feels a lot like a Practitioner has a hand in things.”

“Maybe they’re trying to make the Abyss more powerful,” said Eric.

“How would this game make the Abyss more powerful?” Dennis asked.

Eric shrugged. “Just spit balling here.”

“Chris,” said Carlos. “Mind searching for ways to get into the Abyss. Maybe that would help.”

Chris clicked a bit before he shook his head. “Locked.”

“Taylor,” said Victoria. “You have a Bogeyman. Can you call it and we could ask it questions?”

“He’s free until tomorrow,” I said. “You could give me questions and I could ask him.”

“Or maybe I can come over tomorrow,” said Victoria. “I’d be interested to see a Bogeyman up close.”

I swallowed and finally nodded.

“I’ll drive up to the Salamanders,” said Carlos. “Look for anything and talk to the Ladies. Maybe they’ll have something.”

“I’m coming too!” said Dennis. Carlos let out a long-suffering sigh. “Don’t judge me. Because that’d be like the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Am I missing something?” I said.

“Dennis has the hots for Abigale who’s with the Ladies of Perpetual Ambivalence,” said Chris.

“Hey!”

“And Carlos’ got the hots for Jameel.”

“I see it,” said Victoria.

“Yeah,” my mouth said without meaning to.

 _“Yeah,”_ said Carlos.

“We should call it a night,” said Victoria. “Do our own research for tomorrow and meet again Sunday so we can consolidate? We have until the next weekend to get things together before we make our run through and I’d like us to be as prepared as possible. We might have to pull back on schoolwork a little as we get more into this through the week.

***

There was something intimidating about knowing I would get a visit from a friend. It made me _so_ aware of things in my house and every object within. My house wasn’t the worst, but wasn’t in the best of shape. It wasn’t anywhere near Victoria’s house and that made me feel self-conscious.

When I got back home, after checking with Amber to make sure nothing had happened, I started to clean up a little. The house wasn’t messy but there were traces of Dad and me and I wanted those away. I got into the basement and cleaned and ordered it. It was gross, but I moved the Alabaster head in a patch of darkness, drew a circle with for smaller circles in the cardinal directions, in the small circles I drew the night rune and I drew lines that radiated out. I made sure to have a lock of hair from the Alabaster so I didn’t have to turn things over when I wanted to find her.

I felt _so_ tired as I slept and my dreams were filled with a visceral fear as I thought about what it meant to be completely forgotten. The idea that so many people could have been _lost_ and that families were left without important people was terrifying in a different way than the fear I felt for Chompers. It made me think about our go through the game and what it would be like if I disappeared completely.

It had hit Dad hard when he’d lost Mom, but how would it be if he lost me and couldn’t even remember me? Would he be able to go on?

_Is it worth it when I could put Dad with so much pain?_

It was a thought I wrestled with the next morning as I ate breakfast, then went into the basement to check on Chompers. I’d seen the types of things in his stomach and I could guess how he got them by using the thing with the Alabaster as a sign. Things like Chompers existed on a seemingly large scale and the world needed more people who dealt with them, was I willing to let them persist just because I was worried about Dad?

The obvious answer was no, but it was a shaky no that made me think more about how Dad might deal if something _really_ bad happened to me. I’d already made a mistake with Chompers, for which I had a wound at the back of my neck that sometimes ached if I turned my head too far, so there was the possibility of another, much bigger, mistake.

 _This is the risk of doing good, isn’t it?_ I thought. _Everything has a price even if it exists in the abstract._

“Going over to the neighbours,” said Dad. “I might go to the store. Doors and windows around the house have been opening and closing, have you noticed?”

_Yeah. I didn’t think you noticed._

“Okay,” I said with a smile I didn’t quite feel. “I might be in the basement when you get back. Victoria Dallon’s coming over.”

Dad smiled bright. “You’re becoming fast friends,” he said.

“You can say that,” I returned.

“Have a good time,” he said.

“Bye,” I said.

I washed our dishes then checked on Amber to make sure they were doing okay. It was hard to look at them sometimes because they had a perpetually terrified expression. They didn’t sleep, not really, but they hung around my bed when I was asleep and sometimes in the middle of the night I heard as they suddenly ran out of my room to go and check for trouble.

Amber wasn’t a ghost, not really, but they were so close that it twisted my stomach to think that _I’d_ been the one to make them like that.

“How have you been doing?” I asked.

“I’m afraid of the thing in the basement,” they said in something close to a whisper. “He’s very dangerous.”

“He’s in a circle,” I said.

Amber swallowed and glanced back. “He scares me when I’m there. I feel smaller the more I’m around him.”

 _I want to tell you that you don’t have to be close to him,_ I thought. _But that’s why I made you. He scares me too._

“You’re doing a really good job with looking out for danger,” I said. I didn’t miss that I’d sidestepped the matter entirely. Amber smiled but it didn’t reach their eyes.

“Someone’s coming,” they said as they turned towards the door.

I walked to the door and opened it before there was a knock. It was Victoria, dressed in casual clothes that didn’t look at all expensive though they sat well together. Her hair was done up in a messy style and there was a hint that she hadn’t slept too well but she still looked good.

“Hey,” she said with a smile.

“Hello,” I said. I stood back and gestured for her to come in. “Please.”

She came in. “Sorry if I’m here too early,” she said. “But I wanted to get started as soon as possible so I could get more research today.”

“It’s okay,” I said. It _was_ a little early, before noon, but I’d cleaned last night and I didn’t think there was anything worth hiding. “Do you want something? Juice, water, coffee or tea? I could make sandwiches or something.”

“Nothing, thank you,” she said. “Could we get to it? Like I said, there’s a lot to do.”

I nodded. “Follow me.” I lead her to the basement and my shoulders drew in at my setup. It wasn’t like Victoria and her basement, where there were tables were each person could do their work. I only had three books connected to the practice, the copy of _Essentials_ Lisa had given me, her Dramatis Personae and the grimoire I’d started to compile for myself. There were a few objects, but the only two things of power I had were the stick Ewald had given me and the curse which was bound.

“That’s a lot of salt,” said Victoria, a bit of humour in her voice.

“Yeah,” I said. “My Dad.” He’d noticed all the salt I bought and used, and he’d asked a friend of his to sell the bag to him cheap. I smiled at the thought.

Chompers sat in his circle, head bowed and a sob in the air.

Victoria stopped and looked at him. She didn’t seem scared, but she’d been a Practitioner longer than I had and she’d probably seen a lot scarier stuff.

“These guys are supposed to be really dangerous,” she said. “Worse than a lot of goblins and those can be _bad._ How did you catch him?”

“I beat him with a stick,” I said.

“Really?” Victoria said, so surprised a laugh escaped her. “Just like that?”

“It was an elf stick,” I said. “There must have been something special about it.”

Chompers, when I thought about him, seemed powerful, that I’d managed to beat him so hard with a stick that he’d agreed to being bound didn’t make sense. Which likely meant there were some special rules with Bogeymen I must have missed, a weakness I’d unwittingly used that I still didn’t know about.

The sob cut off and Chompers looked up, a mouth without lips, with large, yellowed teeth, smiled. Victoria still looked unperturbed.

“If you’re trying to scare me, you’re going to have to do a better job,” she said.

Chompers threw up a massive tide of viscera, hands, arms, legs and feet covered in chunky fluids that pooled around him. Before I could speak to tell him to stop a baby shot out of Chompers’ mouth, naked with an umbilical cord still attached, its tiny fists clenched tight, its eyes closed and its mouth opened. It _wailed._

“Chompers stop,” I said.

The baby’s wail cut short. Chompers’ head darted forward and with loud slurp-crunch, he chomped through the baby’s leg and swallowed it hole. The baby didn’t cry, but it was clear from its expression that it was in a lot of pain.

Victoria stumbled back, whipped around and threw up.

A laugh cut through the air.

“Chompers!” I said. “Do not scare or disgust my guest!”

“Of course,” said Chompers. He swallowed the baby whole, then drank the viscera in one go. Victoria wretched, tried to hold it and then threw up again.

I quickly ran upstairs and came back with two buckets, one filled with water and the other empty. I found Victoria with her arms on her leg, dry heaving.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her face was pink and there were tears in her eyes.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “He got me too.”

“I’ll clean it up,” she said. “Just…water, please.”

I nodded and ran back upstairs. I brought her back a glass of water and she drank it all in one go. After that was done, she took a seat and, as disgusting as it was, I started to clean it.

“Stop,” said Victoria. “I promised that I’d clean it.”

“Oh, right,” I said.

She gathered herself before she started to clean it. She went into the bathroom and washed her face, then came back a little more presentable.

“I’ve met goblins,” she muttered. “And they’re disgusting, but I think this is a different sort of disgusting.”

“I think he gets off on scaring people,” I said.

She nodded. “They…they get more powerful the more they scare you,” she said. “He gets some power from what he did. I’m a little scared of what he might do if he finds an opening and that fear feeds him.”

“Smart one, aren’t you?” said Chompers.

I glared in his direction.

“I could do with that sandwich,” she said. “Then we can ask our questions.” I nodded and we went upstairs. “What are the terms of the binding?” she asked as she slowly ate through her sandwich. “Any price I have to worry about?”

“He answers my questions,” I said. “We worked through a deal where he answers completely without misleading or omitting or any trickery, and I gave him a bit of freedom for a few hours through the binding.”

Victoria nodded. She still looked a little bit weak from the up-chuck episode. “Do you have anything on the terms that says you can’t trade the questions to anyone else?” she asked.

“Give me a sec.”

I ran up to my room and came back with the contract. I checked it over, looked at the terms and there was nothing of the kind. A hole that Chompers had missed. I shook my head.

“Then I’d like some of your questions in exchange for something,” said Victoria. She reached for her ear and pulled off her silver stud. “This is a hallow,” she said. “It’s something I always keep with me just in case I have to contain a spirit. I think it could work for Amber, a place to keep her. She might be able to whisper dangers in your ear.”

“If you give me instructions on _how_ to make one of my own, I’ll give you my…authority to ask questions and get answers from Chompers for the period of an hour,” I said.

“Only the authority, the burdens of the deal will stay yours,” she said.

I frowned and thought it over, looked for anything worrying before I nodded. She held out a hand and we shook.

“I’ll check the books, write down the lore and give you everything by the following Friday at most.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s head back down there,” she said, a hint of anger in her voice.

She took point and I followed. Her shoulders were squared and her eyes narrowed in a scowl. She went over to a chair, put it in front of Chompers and sat with authority. I looked at her with the sight and saw how the aura around her seemed to be fiercer.

“Taylor and I made a deal,” she said. Her voice didn’t boom, but it was unyielding, “and for the next hour I will ask you questions and you will have to answer them. She has given over that right to get answers to me for the next hour. Answer my questions truly and completely or you will be bound by the agreement as set through the contract you concluded with her.”

“Ask away,” he said.

“The Abyss,” she said. “What is it?”

“It’s an Other place,” said Chompers, “the place where forgotten things go. Gods, Others, men, places and sometimes the rogue spirit or incarnation.”

“You’re of the Abyss?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Chompers. “I’m from the Academy though there are more places, the Road or the Infirmaries.”

“What’s the Road like?”

“A narrow road, thin with a line that runs down the middle. It’s straight with holes so large a monster could lie in wait and eat a passer-by.”

“Is it a gravel road?” she asked.

“Not that I have seen,” said Chompers.

“Do you know an Other named the Friend?”

“No,” said Chompers.

“Do you know of an Other who calls themselves the Friend?”

“No.”

“Do you know of an Other who makes others refer to them as the Friend?”

“No.”

“Do you know of an Other who many refer to as the Friend?”

“No.”

She asked the same questions again but she traded in Other for Practitioner and Chompers’ answer stayed no.

“Is the Abyss alive? By which I mean, does it have intellect, goals, wants, needs or objectives?”

“The Abyss lives,” he said. “The Abyss moulds. The Abyss shifts and changes those things that fall within its grasp. The Abyss takes and it holds tight everything. Its goals are to get and keep. Its goal is to change all those within in.”

“Change how?” I asked.

Chompers turned in my direction but he didn’t answer.

“Change how?” Victoria asked.

“Bit by bit it makes you lose bits of yourself and take the pieces of others to grow stronger,” he said. “It makes you face the worst aspect of yourself and gives you a choice, fight it to grow stronger, or cast that part of you away.”

“How do you get into the Abyss?”

“Me?” he said. “I would only have to let myself be pulled before I wound up back in the Abyss, or I would have to be killed, my power expended.”

I made a mental note of that.

“How about a Practitioner?” she asked. “How would they go into the Abyss?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Not the specifics. But I know that a prized possession must be lost.”

“Lost how?” Victoria asked.

“Destroyed,” said Chompers.

She nodded. “Is the Abyss able to make people effectively disappear?” she asked. “Is it able to push spirits so that they forget that people exist?”

“The Abyss takes that which is forgotten or discarded,” said Chompers.

Victoria frowned. I got the sense that she was done with her questions, but she hadn’t finished her hour which meant she had more questions. We learned that the Abyss could torment people with visions, all of which drove them towards change, that even if it didn’t speak directly, it was smart in a way.

She asked a _lot_ about the Academy, questions that I would have liked to have asked on my own. She asked about how things worked, what courses were taught there and an example of the type of Bogeyman that called the place home. Then she moved on to the Infirmaries and finally the road though Chompers didn’t know a lot about the Road.

I jotted it all down because it was stuff I was interested in, though I would have preferred to ask the questions

When her hour was done, we went upstairs.

“I don’t think it’s the Abyss,” I said.

“You too, huh?” she said. She sighed. “It was the same for me too. Things just didn’t line up. Of course there’s maybe a Practitioner involved and they might be trying to work towards getting more people into the Abyss.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Maybe they have a debt or the Abyss offered them power? Or they wanted power of their own and their practice is tied to the Abyss,” she said. “But why would it change its modus operandi? Fundamental forces almost never change because there’s power in pattern and ritual.”

“It might be something else,” I said. “Not connected to the Abyss.”

“Maybe something else fundamental, but _what?”_ she said. “And what are the pieces? There must be a clue somewhere.”

“You said you were going to start from basics,” I said. “Maybe talking to me will help.”

She nodded. “It starts with a straight road and it turns in a gravel road. There’s supposed to be gruesome sculptures along the road and we have to forgive and complement the Friend as we go through. We drive, get to a waypoint, turn, meet the Man, though that might be different since the man left the ritual space to come into this world, pass through the places with power and knowledge, drop off the Man, and finally reach the Friend’s House.”

“Anything odd or that sticks out?” I asked.

“A few things,” she said. “The whole thing is too…fully realised. There are all these props that make it seem like it’s been set up for a while or at least the Practitioner had time to get all the pieces to set their stage. The sculptures make sense, it could be people who made mistakes, but some of the things don’t. They’re too big: the village, the school, manor and the gingerbread house. Where did it have the power to get those things?”

“It’s too powerful,” I said. “But it also feels like a Practitioner?”

“It feels like a Practitioner because it’s too powerful while still feeling young,” she said. “But we might be wrong because it has enough power to rework memories and ripple out to make it seem as though people never existed. It _could_ have gotten a lot of powerful Practitioners but other people would have realised something like that and dealt with it, or at least warned others. And old things generally can’t work newer technology or at least don’t incorporate it into how they function.” She sighed. “If we figured out the _ends_ then this might be easier. What is this person trying to achieve beyond the obvious? Why did they choose this form of attack? Where did they get the power to make another _place_ as their ground? Or, if it’s not another place, how did they structure things to make ‘doors’ open a certain way? It could be a demesne, but how did they make a demesne that large?”

“What’s the obvious?” I asked. She frowned. “You said beyond the obvious thing they’re trying to get.”

“That they’re trying to get more powerful,” she said. “But why do this? Why this game, and if they co-opted it, what was it before?”

“I wish I could help,” I said. “This feels…big.”

“It’s bigger than we thought,” she said. “I hope Chris and Carlos will have more luck on their research, but I’m a little worried about that too. We can’t leave the road because there are threats, but we’ll be looking for someone. How can we do that without getting into trouble.”

“Maybe it’s a good idea to involve adults?” I said.

Victoria smiled but it was hollow. “I don’t think they’ll be willing to put in the power,” she said. “Do you watch the news?”

“Haven’t in a while,” I said.

“Well, there’s a low gang war going on out there. Everyone’s keeping it quiet but it’s only a matter of time before things spill. The Merchants are done as a power. The ABB and E88 are fighting between themselves for now, but the Protectorate and New Wave are consolidating power so that they can strike if things get too messy. This is on us or it won’t be taken care of for a while.”

_More people disappeared so completely no one can remember them._

I gave her a smile. “You’re smart,” I said. “I think you can figure this out.”

“Thanks, Taylor,” she said. “I should probably leave. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Okay,” I said and I walked her to catch a cab.

***

The following week seemed to move a little too fast for my liking, which probably had to do with the fact that on Saturday we’d make a go through a game which was bigger and scarier than we’d thought. I asked Dad’s permission to be out with Victoria during the weekend and he agreed only if he could meet Victoria’s parents which was a little awkward.

Sunday blazed into Monday, and I couldn’t focus for most of the day as I thought through the game. I hadn’t really thought about how to protect myself because it hadn’t seemed too serious, but now I was aware of how few Others I had. There was Amber, but they were for threat detection and not for a fight; there was Jonah, but he wasn’t strong and I didn’t think I could get him to be stronger within the span of a week; and finally Chompers, who scared me.

 _I can’t let myself be scared,_ I thought. _I can’t let myself be scared when there’s something out there that’s making people disappear. When I could be disappeared if I don’t have the means to protect myself._

I had to use whatever advantage I had, which meant thinking about the Undersiders or maybe Mr Calvert. But everything had a price and I couldn’t forget that I didn’t trust Mr Calvert and that the Undersiders, even if Lisa was my friend, worked for Mr Calvert.

_Why is it that working with Chompers feels less scary that working with Mr Calvert?_

“I’ve been waiting for you,” said Chompers.

“Have you?”

He nodded. “I could sense that something was afoot,” he said. “That you will be facing a great Other and you’ll need my protection.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “You’ve already considered all the ways you could screw me over if I _told_ you to protect me through the trip?”

A grin stretched wide. “You’ve learned,” he said. “A contract, perhaps,” he said. “Simpler. Another hour free, I get to choose the time, and I serve as your protector as needed during the duration of my binding.”

I frowned. “I noticed that I’m giving you a lot of freedom,” I said. “It’s not direct but I’m cutting down the ‘time’ that I have with you.”

“Everything has a price,” he said.

“It’s just I’m wondering about this price,” I told him. I thought about Victoria and I mirrored her. I sat a little straighter and glowered as I looked at him. “Chompers, what would be the best way to bind a Bogeyman?”

He didn’t frown but his smile dipped. “Bogeyman are mercurial creatures,” he said. “By their nature, many are new and hard to define, but they can be bound by things that are in their nature.”

“Like you being from the Academy and the type of magic you display?” I asked.

“Amongst others, yes,” he said.

“What are those others?”

“Personality, style, temperament,” he answered and it sounded begrudging.

“As a positive binding,” I said with a nod. Positive bindings were like binding like and they worked on weaker Others or for a shorter about of time. “What would be a negative binding?”

“Things that oppose their nature,” he said. “Hard things that have _weight,_ things that have existed for a long time.”

I turned to the stick as the pieces slotted together. Elves, by their nature, were gardeners. They planted seeds and saw them grow. That stick would have come from a tree tended from a seed, cut and then crafted to be a stick. I didn’t know the type of wood it came from, but trees didn’t grow overnight, which was probably why the stick had worked much better than the _new_ chain.

My mind went to the door, the same one that had kept me safe from the hand things. The house was _old._ It had been in Grandma Mable’s family for two generations before it had been given to her and Grandpa Dean. Then it had gone to Dad. There’d been a lot of additions, but something hadn’t been changed and I was sure that the door into the basement was old.

The door had served as a barrier of its own, which was why the hands hadn’t been able to get out.

“I don’t know everything about you, Chompers,” I said. “But I know enough that I can make sure that anyone who comes across you can bind you. I think we can discuss a new contract from that as a price.”

“What are your terms, Practitioner,” he said, a bit of anger in his voice.

We discussed things for a _very_ long time because I was scared of being screwed over again. The core of the contract was that he’d protect and serve me during the duration of his time with me and in return I wouldn’t give out information on his nature or his abilities. A lot of the work was spent trying to weed out the loopholes. In his duty to protect me he could give out the secrets of his nature and since he served _me,_ it could be argued that I had been the one who forced the reveal. I didn’t know if that was strictly true, but I wanted that closed.

We weren’t finished with our discussion by the time Dad came back with some takeout and I didn’t take the negotiations back up until the next day because I wanted to look through everything we’d already discussed with fresh eyes. Chompers tried his best to push to extend the period so that I _never_ revealed his nature, but I asked in turn that he be in my service for that period and he didn’t agree to that.

But that made me think about something else. I’d read in _Essentials_ that some families were able to call specific Others because of agreements they’d made with them, prices that had been agreed upon beforehand and special words to make calling the Other easier. I thought about doing that with Chompers, but it was part and parcel of these bindings to let the Other go and do whatever until they were called, which meant Chompers would still be messing with the Alabaster, and he’d still use her to get innocent people to eat.

 _Gotta keep my head on the price,_ I thought.

I used the lock of hair I had to find the Alabaster’s web. It was still set in darkness which I had been worried would sap a _lot_ of power, though it hadn’t taken so much that I’d noticed yet. It probably helped that I had the head in a dark place which meant the rune was adding to a darkness that already existed instead of making new darkness.

I still hadn’t concluded the terms of the contract Thursday evening when Victoria, Amy and their Dad came to our house. Victoria’s Dad was a strapping guy, in good shape with features he shared a lot with Victoria, to the sight he had so much light wrapped around him that it hurt to look at him directly.

“Sorry I haven’t been able to get this to you sooner,” said Victoria as we retired to the basement. She pulled out a small, thin book that had been expertly made.

“Oh, wow,” I said. “I didn’t think you’d make it into a book.”

“Amy did it,” said Victoria. “She’s better at that type of artsy stuff even if she doesn’t really like it.”

“I don’t think I ever said I don’t like it,” said Amy as she smiled lazily.

“Thanks, Amy,” I said.

“It wasn’t a bother,” she said. “It kept my head away from what you’re all going to do.”

“You’re not coming?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I’m not much of a Practitioner,” she said. I noticed that her bone crown dug deep into her head and produced more blood. Her smile was gone as she said, “I only Awakened because I had to.”

Victoria gave her a half-hug.

“Anyway, is the Bogeyman in there?” she asked. 

I’d made a larger circle around Chompers, this one had circles with the day rune, with capped lines radiating from it. The capped lines meant ward off, which, with the day run within, worked to block light from piercing the circle. It left the circle a dark expanse from our perspective and since light didn’t go in, Chompers also couldn’t see us too.

“Yeah,” I said. “Finally figured out how to make a diagram that works the way I wanted.”

“It’s good,” said Victoria. “But you haven’t dulled sound.”

“I haven’t figured out a way to make it balanced,” I said.

“Balance is very important,” she said.

“Which I still don’t get why,” I said. “I look out for it, but the rationale?” I shook my head.

“The lines we draw are like pits where power seeps in,” she said. “If one side is closer than the other, more power can go into that place and the diagram might break. It’s bad if it’s unintentional, but you can use it to make more complicated diagrams, ones that activate when certain conditions are met.”

“Like the connection diagram you drew when we were talking to Weld’s team,” I said. “I noticed that the lines looked like they would fall, that was intentional?”

“Yeah,” said Victoria. “Shaping is very important to get certain combinations. There are some runes that make the process easier, they use _a lot_ of power until they do their thing, but I could give them to you for another round of questioning with the Bogeyman.”

I thought about saying yes before I thought about the terms of the contract, I had to sign by tomorrow to get Chompers’ service, and how he could just decide that it wasn’t worth it if I tried to weasel out of things.

I shook my head. “Sorry,” I said. “Maybe another deal. I’ve going to make a deal with Chompers and that’ll break those terms.”

“I get it,” said Victoria. “Oh, before I forget, you might want to add notation in the boarders. Like, day keep out or something.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Notation helps the spirits figure out what you’re trying to do if you make the circle too complex,” she said.

I nodded. “Anyway, anything new for the game?” I asked. “Stuff to prepare for?”

“Oh, right,” said Victoria. “We learned about other Other places that might be connected to this. _Paths.”_

“What are they?” I asked.

“They’re roads travelled by Finders, they lead to certain places that have very distinct rules that have to be followed for gifts or the person there might be lost.”

“You did say it had to be fundamental,” I said.

Victoria nodded. “It’s a _first_ step, though,” she said, “because it still doesn’t explain a lot. We managed to get Collin to give us the info on the Paths he could, but even he’s scared of them because they’re _all_ dangerous. He gave us abstracts but not enough so that we could go into a Path. Anyway, Paths don’t look for people, people may find them but that might because they found an Other that were part of the Path and who got into the world, but the Path itself doesn’t seek people out.”

“A Practitioner’s hand.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Maybe a Practitioner messed with a Path somehow? Collin thought it might be impossible to do that, he thought that having someone go through a path would be close to awakening them so maybe we’ve got the wrong theory, there. Maybe someone used the same idea as a Path?”

“What does that mean for us?” I asked.

“We have something of a plan that Carlos,” she swallowed, “Dean and I talked about. We’ll use the school to get more information about how the place came into being then read a page each so we don’t lose too much. You don’t have to if the price is too high or if you have something else you’d like to know.”

“No,” I said. “This is important. You can count me in.”

“Have you thought about the gift you’ll give the Friend?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“Look for one,” said Victoria. “The greater the gift you give, the greater the gift returned.”

A knock came from upstairs and the three of us went up. Victoria and her family left and I had to listen as Dad gushed about Mr Dallon. He said I could go on the camping trip, which was awesome, and after that was done I went downstairs to conclude the deal with Chompers. We didn’t finish it, of course, but when he returned from his freedom, we went through everything until the deal was done and the contract was signed.

On Friday I went looking for a gift. I wasn’t sure what the Friend would want because I didn’t know them, but I thought something close to the heart might be worth it. In the end I didn’t buy anything, I went upstairs and searched through old books until I found the _Glade,_ a short book about a girl who’d returned home after having run away and her journey to forgiving her family for the bad stuff.

I hadn’t really liked it, but it was one of the last books Mom and I had read for our two-person book club. We’d had two copies, one for Mom and the other for me. I’d give the Friend my copy because I couldn’t part with Mom’s.

Evening fell and I packed my backpack with everything I had. My stick, the length of chain and a lighter. I had Amber with me because they had good eyes and there would be threats; Jonah still in his lunch box; and Chompers. I had the _Glade_ which I would give to the Friend; I had salt because it was better to have it than to do without, I had the Bogeyman finger though I wasn’t sure how I’d use that, paper weights that weren’t finished and a few binding seals written out.

There were bandages just in case things turned bad, I had orange juice and energy bars, and a flashlight with three extra sets of batteries. I’d bought a length of rope though I had no idea if I’d use it and a knife because that could be useful.

 _The last thing is your bravery,_ I thought. I took a breath, held it and after a swallow, I biked with Chompers in tow towards Victoria’s house.

The others were already there and the cars, twin cabs, were parked outside. Dean’s truck was newer and Carlos’ was beaten and battered. From what I could see, everyone was done up in good clothes and they shone with the light of a lot of magical objects.

“Ready?” Dennis said as he offered a shaky smile.

“No,” I said. “But we have to do this.”

Victoria nodded. “We’ll drive out of the city, park until dawn before we drive straight,” she said. I noticed the distance between her and Dean. It had to be hard, breaking up and then having to be around each other. I hoped it didn’t negatively impact the mission. “Let’s get going.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Eleven**

_“Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb! Mary had a little lamb, whose fleece was white as snow!”_

I took a long deep breath, my eyes closed as the shout of children echoed around me. It was maybe a little mean but I’d woken up _very_ early after I hadn’t slept well. Chompers had used his freedom to low-key unsettle us all by spitting out body parts, swallowing them again and spitting them back out changed or warped. I was also hungry because it was better to be hungry before we turned into the Friend’s domain.

The children, ghosts that had been collected by Victoria and Dean, were arrayed around us. They didn’t have concrete forms which meant they turned ghostly to fit around us. There were seven of us in total split across two cars: Victoria, Carlos and Eric were in the car behind us, with their own ghostly children who were singing their own songs; and I rode with Dennis, Dean and Chris.

Dean drove, Chris was in the passenger’s seat, and Dennis, Amber and I sat in the back with the ghostly children. In the back of our truck with the supplies, Chompers stood, wind fluttering his hair.

“No!” a ghost boy said. “That’s not how it goes! That’s not how it goes!”

“It is!” a girl said and he pushed the boy. The boy pushed back and the girl almost bumped into Amber, but she was quick enough to move out of the way. The girl retaliated and laughter filled the car as other children laughed and egged the others on.

 _Children are so annoying,_ I thought as I took a breath and rubbed my temple.

But it was needed. The car was supposed to be filled with mirth, music and jaunty conversation. We weren’t the ones partaking in the jaunty conversation, but that was within the range of the instructions. 

Dean drove at a sedate pace and, because of a knot Victoria and the others had tried to explain, the cars were tied together and they drove at the same speed. We’d spoken last night in the last hours yesterday and Victoria had hypothesised that the game might have gotten easier to get into because of the prevalence of the Interstate, which were a series of roads that could be straight for long stretches.

As interesting as that was, I hadn’t really paid attention because I was worried about what we were getting into. We were going into an Other place that had the potential of making us disappear if we didn’t play things right. All I thought about was Dad and how his life would be emptier with one less person in his life.

I swallowed and looked outside. I hated my feelings, especially when it might have an effect on how the terrain presented itself, but it wasn’t like I could just flick them off.

_“Bah bah black sheep!”_

“No,” a ghost child said. “I want Old McDonald!”

“I know!” said another. “We should sing Ring Around the Rosie!”

“No,” said Dean.

All the kids turned towards him. He was a quiet guy, but he seemed more so now, because of how bad things were between him and Victoria. A part of me wished he hadn’t come. I knew he came from an old family and he was more useful than I was, but him and Victoria in the same place made things awkward for _everyone._

“Sing another song,” he said with authority.

One of the kids blew raspberries at him, but they sang Old McDonald instead.

“Why?” I asked.

“That song’s attributed history is dark,” Dean said with a sigh. “We’ve already got a lot working against us, maybe, and we don’t need to nudge things in little ways to a bad end.”

“Okay,” I said and I went quiet.

“There’s a road,” said Amber and she pointed. Dennis sat in the direction of the road but from the looks of it he hadn’t seen it. I didn’t blame him because I would have missed it entirely. With most roads there was lead-in, tracks that moved from the Interstate to the derelict road. There wasn’t that with the road into Friend’s domain, only an opening that _might_ fit a car, surrounded on both sides by tall wide trees I was sure would ruin the paint job of Dean’s car.

Dean slowed and signalled to turn.

Up front, between Dean and Chris was an old looking CB radio, so old that there weren’t any digital parts to in. The mic to speak with was a block, black, with bits of dirt that turned my stomach as Chris brought it near his mouth. He pressed a button.

“We see the entry, over,” said Chris

 _“Us too,”_ said Eric, his voice almost lost in the crackle. _“Over.”_

“Careful,” said Chris. “Match the speed as much as you can, we don’t want to snap the rope. Over.”

_“Got it. Over and out.”_

I glanced back as we got off the Interstate. The others were still behind us, a battered truck that was maybe red or maroon, so filled with rust that the paint job was hard to tell. Carlos’ truck looked at least ten years old and as it got off the Interstate, I _heard_ its loud rumble. But everything Carlos had said had made me think that the truck had been through a lot.

Dean didn’t slow as we drove into the trees. At once all light dimmed, the trees too tall and the foliage too thick. Dean put on his lights and they shone into the distance. They reached wide but there were patches so dark light couldn’t pierce them, the clearest thing was the road.

It wasn’t even really a road, only track with long grass growing in the middle I heard as the grass scraped the undercarriage. The road was smooth for the most part, but there would be sudden holes that had the car tilt in one direction, almost throwing us to one side.

“Bad road,” said Dean.

“I mean, it’s understandable, isn’t it?” said Dennis. “Until we started this, not a lot of people were using this road. At least I think that’s how it went. We can’t expect it to be in good condition.”

“I guess you’re right,” said Dean.

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” said Chris.

“Yeah,” I said. My expectations had been of worse all things considered. I’d expected an actively hostile road that wore at the car. I’d also expected that the road would be as wet as it had been for the Shuddering Salamanders.

 _Forgive the friend for the road is not well tended,_ I thought.

When the others had gone through the road had been horrible but there hadn’t been any trees, but that was probably because of where we’d started our run through the game. The trees that neighboured us got closer, the children still spoke around us, they were happiness incarnate, but children were afraid of places like this and I could see how they blurred around the edges, as some started to fritz in their movements.

Chris pulled out a CD that shone under my sight. He got it into the system and pressed play. Jingles from maybe the seventies or the eighties started to play, filled with so much background noise that I felt the emotion. I didn’t know the song but it filled me up and the tune made the trip a little easier on the mind.

“Remember to stay anchored,” Dennis reminded me and I nodded. The song could draw the mind, if I listened too deeply, I might get distracted.

I reached into my backpack and pulled out my flashlight to shine it into my side of the tree line. The flashlight wasn’t the most powerful and the trees sucked up the light. I reached into my backpack and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, and as quickly and carefully as I could—and the ride got a little bumpier to spite me—I drew a day rune in a circle with lines radiating out. I looked through my bag and my stomach dropped.

“Does anyone have tape?” I asked.

Chris reached into his bag and handed some over.

I pasted the paper over the flashlight so that light would hit it from behind. I pointed the flashlight away and flicked it on. The light was almost _blinding._ It cut through the trees and illuminated the darkest depths.

“I spotted something!” I said a minute later.

It was a person, whether it was a man or woman I couldn’t tell with how far they were. They had skin so pale it caught the light and shone, they were dressed in clothes that might have been Japanese, silk that was in red and white, which draped down outspread arms and dangling legs. The person had been hoisted up between trees, the ropes hidden so it looked like the figure floated.

“Something to the right, out,” said Chris to the radio. Then, “It’s impressive that they managed to hide the ropes.”

“The dress thing looks good,” I said. There was a knot in my throat and swallowing didn’t seem to help. “Good style on the part of the Friend.”

“I wish I had that even a complexion,” said Dennis. I gave him a confused look. “What?” he said. “I do.”

“I—” the car drove through a bump and we all lurched. Beneath us I heard a loud clang as we hit something. _“Fuck,”_ Dean muttered. “I think it’s a creative project.”

 _That feels weak_.

Between everyone who’d gone through the ritual, the largest number of art pieces was thirteen. But there were differences between the pieces and the others hadn’t figured out if it was because some were missed or if they changed regularly.

Tall trees surrounded us on all sides and they seemed bigger and more ominous as my light roved over them. Before, the darkness had tries to suck up all the light, but now the motif had changed into lengthened shadows and shapes against trees that seemed almost intentional. I spotted a tree, the second biggest I’d ever seen. It had the face of a person, old and gnarled, his expression twisted in ecstasy.

“Tree,” I said. The others turned. “It must have taken a lot of patient work to get that done.”

“Tree has a face on it to the right,” said Chris. “Out.”

“If it’s carved, the detailing is _incredible,”_ said Dean.

“Good—”

 _“White squirrel!”_ the radio said with the crackle of Eric’s voice. _“On the left.”_

Before I could look, above us there was a cackle, first one bird before it was taken up by the others. It sounded _so_ human that my heart momentarily stopped before I remembered that one of the art pieces was a flock of birds that took into the air.

I remembered the white squirrel and came up to see it on the left, but I couldn’t see anything through the darkness. To make things worse, I bumped Dennis a little who did his best to see the tree on my side.

“Birds!” said Chompers. “In the air.”

“That’s good mimicking from the birds,” I said, speaking over Chris who’d still being complementing the tree or the white squirrel. I _hoped_ that they wouldn’t miss anything. “Sounds almost human. They must have been well taught.”

I’d missed one, which sucked, but it wasn’t the worst thing. But it would colour the friend’s interactions with us.

I hoped that we hadn’t lost anyone. I thought back to the people in the car. Dennis, Dean, Chris, Amber, Chompers and the kids. Some were Others and those were exempt from the game, but it brought me a degree of calm to add them into the list. I thought about everyone in the car behind us, Victoria, Carlos and Eric, they had their Others too but they were bound. But as I finished the thought it hit me that if I’d forgotten who they were, I wouldn’t have recalled them.

The others were finished off their compliments.

A laugh reverberated, both surprising and filling me with a sudden happiness. It came from the CD and that happiness added vigour to the ghostly children who’d gone quieter, it made them speak and laugh and cajole, a few of them even started to sing the jingle that still filled the car.

“Oh no,” said Amber.

I turned in my flashlight in the direction she was looking and I saw a top-heavy wolf run after a woman dressed in outdoor gear, over which was a red poncho.

 _“We’re stopping,”_ said Eric, a moment before our car lurched to an abrupt stop that had me continue forward before my seatbelt snapped tight against my chest and stopped me.

“What?” said Dennis, a little too loud, his shoulder had hit his door and his expression had twisted in pain. “Fuck. A little warning next time.”

“Carlos stopped,” said Dean, he too surprised. “That must be the person that was lost.”

“And they’re being chased by a goddamn wolf?” Dennis said. “How the fuck are we supposed to stop that?”

“Bad word! Bad word! Bad word!” the children cried and they laughed. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” another screamed. I looked at them and they seemed more faded than before.

I swallowed as I watched the chase, the woman wasn’t as fast as the wolf but the trees were closely clustered and they gave her places to squeeze through where the wolf had to take oblique paths or _tear_ through trees.

“What if that’s part of something we have to compliment?” Chris said. I got up and looked behind to see that Victoria’s group had gotten out of their car. They were speaking but I couldn’t hear the words, too far away.

“The Woman in Red is very good at running from the Wolf,” I said as I opened my door and stepped out into the forest road, my flashlight pointed towards the ground.

“The show’s certainly got my heart beating a mile a minute, metaphorically speaking,” I heard Dennis say.

Amber stepped out with me and I spotted how they looked around, their body shrunk and a lot of colour gone from them.

 _Yeah, I feel the same way,_ I thought.

There were only a few sounds that cut through the air and they sounded louder as a result. The thrum of the cars with Carlos’ car was much louder, though Dean’s sounded deeper than it had when we’d first started the journey; there was the talk of children, but they were almost whispers; and the sound of branches as they snapped and the bark or deep breathing from the Wolf.

I walked around the car, careful not to leave the thin path. Amber and Chris were behind me, with Dean and Dennis on the other side. My sight, ever active, spotted light different than Carlos’ headlights; a thick length of rope that stretched from Dean’s car to Carlos’. It wasn’t real, which meant we could move through it if we wanted to, but everyone present gave the rope a bit of distance.

“Is that her?” Dean asked. “The person the Shuddering Salamanders lost?”

“We think so,” Victoria said. She had a compass in her hand and the point was directed towards the pair which were now further away and doubling back. The Woman in Red found a tight cluster of branches to move through and the branches ripped at her poncho, but it was just in time to avoid the Wolf as it swiped a massive claw. “The compass is pointing at _them_ and the Big Bad Wolf is an Other so it’s unlikely it’s her.”

“What do you mean when you say _them?”_ Dean asked.

“General direction,” Victoria returned, an air of professionalism about her. “When they’re too far apart it points between them.”

The Big Bad Wolf managed to hit the woman, a swipe at her back. She screamed and fell, then pulled herself through a tangled mess as another paw swiped and broke branches. The Big Bad Wolf tried to bite between the space and only came back with branches. It bit through them and the sound rippled around us, bounced off every tree and seemed to echo far longer than it should.

“We have to do something,” said Victoria.

 _The road is safe from the things that lurk,_ I thought, which meant that the second we left the road we would forfeit its safety. It was scary to think about the whole being lost thing, and whether _that_ was part of the safety we were forfeiting.

The Woman in Red crawled out on the other side of the Big Bad Wolf and ran away. She came closer but the Big Bad Wolf moved faster, it tore through branches and jumped in her way. She skidded to a stop and fell. The Big Bad Wolf, large and bristling, darted—

Carlos put his fingers to his mouth and whistled. The sound was loud and it cut through everything. I saw as every web connected to him flared and grew taut. I couldn’t help but turn in his direction and see that at some point he’d pulled out a shrivelled hand, browned with age, three of its five fingers with ugly candles sticking out, the remaining fingers covered with wax. Carlos blew and one of the candles lit, the light was bright as that of my flashlight and it cast out around us.

“That should hold for a while,” said Carlos.

I turned back to the Woman in Red and the Big Bad Wolf and saw that both were frozen in place, their eyes on Carlos and his hand.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Hand of Glory,” said Carlos. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell any of the adult Protectorate members I have this.”

“If they don’t ask then I won’t tell,” I said.

“That’s good enough,” he said.

“How much time do we have?” Dean asked.

“Not a lot,” said Carlos. The candle burned bright and fast, wax dripping at its side and the smell of urine rising through the air.

“The question is,” said Chris. “How much safety are we giving up if we step out of the road? Do we get lost too or does that wolf come after us? Do we open ourselves up to other monsters in this place being able to come after us?”

“Reading the instructions it only mentions being lost in a few places,” said Victoria, a hint of desperation in her voice. The light from the candle flickered but didn’t go out. “Both times it has to do with the turns.”

“Yeah, but I do you trust those instructions?” Eric asked. “Because I don’t. They’re vague in a _lot_ of places.”

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” I said. My voice came out shaky. I had to stop and taken a breath to make sure my words weren’t lost. “But I don’t want to risk being lost like she was. We were supposed to go to school and get books that would help us figure things out, weren’t we? Why don’t we do that? Then come back for her when there’s a better plan? When we know more?”

 _I feel like such a coward,_ I thought and it was made worse because I could see the judgement in the others. They were scared too, we all were, but I was the one who said it and that said something.

“We didn’t know she would be playing out Little Red Riding Hood, though,” said Victoria. She stared me down and I flinched. She was shorter than me but she felt taller, more prepared. “She could be hurt or killed. This could be our only opportunity to save her.”

I swallowed. _True, but the same thing could happen to us. I want to save her, I do, but sometimes risks aren’t worth taking. Sometimes it’s better to learn as much as possible then come back._

But I didn’t say that because that would make me feel more like a coward.

“We could be hurt and killed too,” said Carlos and I felt so grateful for the words. “We…we need to make sure that any risk we take has a high chance of success. It won’t be worth it if we try and save her, fail and we’re lost too. That means that we can’t go back and tell everyone the things we figure out.”

 _Thank you, Carlos,_ I thought.

“But what about her?” said Victoria. “Here and now? If we don’t save her, she might die. That’ll be on our heads.”

“It’s too much of a risk,” said Carlos. He stared down Victoria. “The compass works and that can be used the next time around. Hopefully with the stuff we pick up from the school we’ll know for sure the risk we’re putting ourselves under by leaving the road. But right now, I don’t think we should step outside the road.”

“What about Others?” Dean said, his eyes were on Victoria. “They’re exempt from the rules in some capacity.”

Chris shook his head. “In all the runs in, there hasn’t been any Other that we’ll let leave the path. Even when Weld fought the wolves, they didn’t leave the road. We don’t know if it’ll hold the protection being on the road gives us.”

“Does everyone else agree?” Victoria asked. She didn’t look happy. There were nods, though most were reluctant. She looked at Eric. “That we shouldn’t go out there and take her?”

“Sorry, cuz,” he said. “But…yeah, this is a little too dangerous. We haven’t even counted all the pieces yet, I don’t think we can take fighting our way through this. There things that ‘lurk’ in here, but the things we’ve seen are these pieces. What if they come alive and come out after us if we leave the road?”

Victoria sighed. “Okay, but maybe we can nudge things. I can give her a bit of my karma so that she survives.”

“Wouldn’t karma help the Friend?” Chris asked. “This is her domain.”

“Karma can’t be taken,” said Victoria. “It can only be freely given and even that take a lot of knowledge not many people have. I don’t think she’ll be able to give it away.”

“Do it,” said Carlos. “We’ll talk about everything we’ve seen so far, anything we might have missed.” 

Victoria went to the car and started preparations for whatever she was about to do. We talked about the pieces we’d seen. There was the Hoisted Other, the tree, the white squirrel and the cackling birds.

“Hey Bogeyman!” said Chris. “Does this place remind you of the Abyss?”

“No,” said Chompers. He stood on the back of Dean’s truck taller than us, he didn’t have any eyes and his yellow teeth showed behind a lipless mouth. A long, grey-green tongue rolled out of his mouth, it flapped through the air and smacked against his face before it wiped it in slobber. “But I can taste its taint in the air.”

“We’re supposed to see the village next,” said Chris. “Then we drive until we meet the next turn. I think if we miss that turn and keep driving straight, we’ll drive into the Abyss.”

“Chompers, tell us if we get too close to the Abyss so we don’t pass the turn,” I said. Chompers gave me a nod. “Amber.” They jumped at my word. “Keep an eye out for the road, okay? It feels like you have the best eyes of all of us.”

“If she’s got the best eyes how did she miss the white squirrel?” Chris asked. “We should have seen it first.”

“Amber sees danger,” I said. “The white squirrel wasn’t dangerous, maybe.”

Carlos’ Hand of Glory popped and the smell of horse shit hit the air. I looked and the candle he’d lit was a nub. Victoria was still doing her work, she had a bottle with water and she ran it over a silver blade muttering words under her breath.

“I need light,” she said.

Carlos stepped forward.

Victoria shook her head. “That’s karmically dubious. Does anyone have a lighter?” she asked.

I reached into my pocket and pulled it out. She lit it and neared the flame to the silver blade, a sliver of the light bounced off and hit here, while another shot through the forest to hit the Woman in Red who was still stuck in place.

A few seconds passed before the light faded.

Carlos’ candle popped and the light died.

The Woman in Red and the Big Bad Wolf were free. The Big Bad Wolf turned but the Woman in Red had already started to move; she turned around and dodged as the Big Bad Wolf made to bite her. She got to her feet, dove through a thick cluster of branches and was off. The Big Bad Wolf roared and took off after her.

The Woman in Red wasn’t faster, but less branches got in her way as she ran and she was able to move further away from the Big Bad Wolf.

Victoria sighed. “Let’s keep moving,” she said.

Carlos shook his head. “Let’s grab a bite, first,” he said. “Gather ourselves. _Then_ we get going. Remember, cool heads or we’ll mess up more stuff.”

Victoria frowned but nodded.

It was a little strange but I felt like I was seeing another part of her. Victoria had always seemed like she was on top of things, she wasn’t the leader of the group, but she was amongst the loudest voices, but in one word it felt like Carlos had sort of taken over.

 _Is this karma?_ I thought. _She gave some of hers away._

I ignored the thought and ate with the others, surrounded on all sides by a gloomy forest.

***

The drive was sedate as it could be, with sudden bumps and uneven ground that made my heart stop as I thought the car would suddenly fall over. Dean had taken up my idea and pasted day runes on his headlights which meant the light was brighter and was cast further than before. We’d put up flashlights on the roof of the trucks and they helped to illuminate the area as a whole.

It was unlikely that we would miss the art pieces, but some of the others I wished we’d missed.

The Obelisk was made of dark stone with a pyramid for the head; there were carvings and patterning all over it, intricate work that I was sure was integrated with magic. As we rolled past and the light from the various flashlights hit it, it revealed blood and the full picture became clear. Above the Obelisk was a golden chalice wider than my head, tipped over so it spilled blood over the top of the pyramid.

With the sight active, the Obelisk was breath-taking. It moved even though it stayed in the same place, it wasn’t a four-dimensional shape, but there was more of it that spread across different places.

It was the easiest of the art pieces to compliment.

The Menagerie were a set of cages filled with humanoid creatures, all bent and warped, limbs chopped off and others grafted on. A man with hooves for legs, a woman whose face had been splayed open to reveal a younger face within, another man with the head of a pig while another had crab claws for hands. They looked at us as we passed, a child with eyes so big they were the only feature of their face, _pleading_ eyes.

“Paltry,” Chompers muttered at the child as we passed, which didn’t help things in the slightest.

The Garrotte was a head with what looked like millions of thin tendrils that sprouted out around her. The trees had started to clear and the Garrotte moved through them, propelling herself through the trees in a course that took her close to the road.

“I’m lost and I can’t get out! Please help! I’m lost and I can’t get out!”

But we couldn’t stop because we couldn’t actually help her.

I heard her scream after us as we passed, and through it all, I had to _compliment_ the Friend.

The Head was that of a giant, without a neck, scraggly black hair that spread across the ground for a mile. The Head was alive and it lay on its side, brown eyes following as we drove past.

The Puppeteer, a giant who stood behind a house whose face was gone, there were people in the house with lengths of thread connected them, stretching up to the giant. He moved his fingers and within the house, the people moved; the Smooth Man, a tall figure with skin of porcelain, he stood and did nothing as we passed; and the Snow Man, a man made of snow who stood against the sun, pain in his eyes as he slowly melted.

“Oh fuck,” said Dennis. “That’s actually good.”

The piece was an old muscle car resting under the shade of a large tree, it had just been painted from the looks of it, almost shiny. I wasn’t into cars and I couldn’t really appreciate it, but Dennis and Dean seemed to appreciate it.

“That’s thirteen,” said Chris. “Hopefully it’s the last one.”

It wasn’t, the last one, the Nesting Doll, was perhaps the worst. The tall trees had disappeared and the terrain had changed into plains of dried grass that dipped and rose in short hills. The last piece was another giant that we first saw in the distance, it was naked and it sat on with legs apart, its back bent and its head hanging.

The drive was straight but we came at the giant from behind and went around to its front without ever having gotten to a turn or a bend.

As we drove closer more of the piece revealed itself. The front of the giant had been splayed open, its chest parted and organs carved out to fit a smaller giant within. It was like the first, back bent and head hung, and its front splayed open to fit something else within.

A Russian nesting doll with nine dolls in all.

 _Gruesome_ and I had to find something worth appreciating, something to compliment in it all.

By the time we passed the fourteenth art piece I was left mentally drained.

“I know this is bad,” said Dennis. “We’re all tired. But let’s try our best to keep focused. We’re almost at the end, we just have to keep our eyes out for the waypoint.”

“Can you take over driving?” said Dean, his voice sounded shaky. “I’m on edge.”

“Sure,” said Dennis. We stopped the car and they changed places. The drive was ‘sedate’ but Dennis was a different driver to Dean, he stepped on the pedal a lot more and swerved the car with more intensity as he tried to avoid bumps or potholes.

It wasn’t raining like it had for the Shuddering Salamanders, the day was nice, all things considered, with only a few clouds in the sky and all of them light and fluffy. Which was when I noticed a picture in the clouds.

“Clouds,” I said. “They look nice.”

Heads swivelled up. “Fuck,” Chris muttered. “What if there were other things that we missed? If this place was built by the Friend from the top-down, everything has its place, then there might be environmental features that we missed.”

“We’re already too far into it,” said Dennis. “Let’s keep driving. The clouds are a nice touch, though.”

Chris told Victoria and the others about the clouds so they could get in their compliments too.

The children were still around us, and with the sun out and the monsters away, they seemed to be finding their energy again. Chris’ jingles filled the air and the children joined them, they pushed each other and were an all-round nuisance.

More annoying now when I felt worse about everything, when I was so on edge.

Most of the words I said were complimenting whatever cool thing I could find. At one point a fence started up, old, not painted and some of the wood rotten, but I found something nice to say about it just in case it was the Friend’s art pieces.

“I think I see it,” said Chris. I followed his point to see a smudge in the distance. When I squinted my eyes, they looked like houses. There were a lot of them and most were made from wood. I couldn’t see any people.

“Everyone see it?” said Dennis.

“Yes,” said Dean.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Next thing is the turn,” said Dennis. He glanced at the rear-view mirror. “Eyes out. We’re almost done. Keep telling yourselves that.”

We kept driving and the sun rose until it was at the middle of the sky. The road was worse, with long trenches that appeared that had us slow to a crawl to get past without further damaging the truck.

We stopped a while later so Carlos could fill his truck with gas. It was on the old side and it was a gas guzzler. We moved again, our eyes in search of any roads that we might miss.

There weren’t many trees around us, only tall, faded grass, and I couldn’t imagine we’d miss if another road appeared. But that sort of thinking was a trap, which made me look harder, my head out of the window so I could see any indentations that showed a path.

“There,” said Dean. I looked and I didn’t see anything.

Dennis slowed, put on his blinkers then turned into grass that started to scrape the undercarriage. I couldn’t see the path ahead and I was sure Dennis couldn’t either, so hidden by tall grass that even the tracks were gone. But I could feel that there _were_ some because the truck bounced when we reached a place where the tracks veered or the earth folded up.

All at once one side of the car fell and a clang reverberated. Dennis stepped on the gas and the car groaned but pushed forward. Carlos truck moved with more deft in the area but its undercarriage hit the spot hard too.

“Sorry, man,” said Dennis.

“I expected this might happen,” said Dean. “My car might be ruined, but this is all to get to the Friend.”

“This is all to get to her company,” I said. “All to visit a Friend.”

Chris and Dennis did the same, half-hearted statements that could be construed as forgiveness offered.

Amber seized as her head snapped out of the windows. I turned in the direction and spotted a dark shape between the grass with the corner of my eye. A wolf with glowing amber eyes that ran silently. The more I focused the more I saw. Three, five, seven, nine, twelve.

“The—”

“Don’t,” said Dennis. I turned to him, to his side and spotted more dark shapes. “Ignore them.”

I nodded and looked ahead. Amber though, couldn’t ignore them. They visibly shook and that had an effect of the kids who grew blurrier around the edges. They still sang but a few had large eyes and looked in the cusp of crying, they didn’t talk or cajole. They were almost spent.

“I’m scared,” Amber said. “They’ll attack.”

“I—”

“Think about what you know about connections,” said Dean. “Don’t reinforce your connection to them, it’s already the thickest one here.”

I looked at the webs in my peripheral vision, there was a veritable network around me. The webs that connected Amber to the wolves was the thickest but I was a close second, the others were doing a good job at ignoring the wolves.

 _Connections,_ I thought to centre myself. If I paid attention to something, saw it, the web grew thick, thinking about it also did the same but that wasn’t as strong, but talking about it while thinking about it could be enough.

I couldn’t help calm Amber down which twisted my stomach into knots.

I looked ahead, my attention on my breaths and watching the road I couldn’t see.

We hit another bump and I snapped forward before I stopped hard. I heard a howl in the distance, then a set growls before there was a scream. My head snapped in the direction and I saw one of the wolves. The webs that stretched between me and the wolves snapped into place.

“Fuck,” said Dean and I saw as the webs around him solidified. A wolf lunged out of the darkness and landed on the roof of the car. “Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck.”_

The wolf jumped off and the surrounding wolves disappeared. It was as though every connection that had centred on us had found something else.

“That was a good rabbit,” I heard Chomper say behind us. “You’d better think of something. It’ll be caught soon.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“It’s done,” said Dean. “Jingling Jester,” light flashed outside of the car and the sound of small bells reverberated. We passed by a man dressed in motley. “Keep them entertained.”

We left the Jingling Jester behind.

“How long?” Chris asked.

“He’s got three good song in him and a good juggle sequence,” said Dean. “I don’t know how long that’ll entertain dogs, though. Maybe if they’re Other enough it’ll be better, but who knows.”

“I’m really sorry,” I said. “I—”

“We all make mistakes,” said Dennis, tone gentler than Dean’s had been. “Learn from them then move forward.”

I nodded but I still felt bad. I checked on the others and they were still there. There was a man standing on the back of Carlos’ truck, shirtless and wearing blue karate pants; he had a red belt cinched tight around his waist and tied a red band around his head. He was too bright, his colours too vivid and the edge of his body seemed like pixels.

“Someone up ahead,” said Dennis. “I’ll roll past. Chris tell the others. They should stop and pick him up.”

Chris nodded and spoke into his radio. Eric confirmed.

We passed the man, dressed in casual clothing, normal looking with skin the colour of cinnamon and long, straight hair that reached his shoulders. He had his thumb out and shook it as we passed. As the others stopped, I saw great relief before he climbed into the car.

“Kha!” I heard and I looked up at the Other who stood in the back of Carlos’ truck. He’d moved, a sudden thrust forward with cupped hands that let out a ball of fire. The ball sailed into the grass and detonated, the sound of a wolf’s cry reverberating.

 _They’ve already moved past the Jingling Jester_.

I looked at the webs. They were taut and alive with activity. I looked around me and saw that though they were connected to everyone, the webs that connected them to me were thicker. _I_ was their target.

“Kha! Kha! Kyaaaaa!”

The ‘kha’ let out a ball of fire while the ‘kya’ let out a beam of fire that cut into the path of the wolves and left fire in its wake. A few of the webs disappeared as the wolves were killed, but there were a _lot_ of wolves.

“No! No! No!” Amber said and I followed her attention to see another wolf.

Just as regular animals could use their terrain to catch their prey off guard, these wolves could do something similar with magical prey. The wolf hadn’t been paying direct attention to me and its web had been too discoloured against the much harsher webs of the other wolves.

But as Amber alerted me and I looked, the web snapped into place.

The wolf, _big_ and ruddy, ran at speed and _pounced._ The kids around us screamed and broke apart into nothing. Amber scrambled back and I did the same and my seatbelt snapped tight.

I couldn’t move.

Glass shattered.

“Eyes closed!” Dennis shouted.

I couldn’t close them, not in time, not when my life flashed before my eyes and darkness probably meant death.

I heard the sound of a grand clock as it ticked and then everything was different. One side of my face ached, my chest hurt and the car had stopped. At the front, their airbags had activated and both Dennis and Chris looked dazed.

“What…” I said. “What happened?”

“We crashed,” said Amber.

I looked around. Dean hadn’t been wearing his seatbelt and he’d hit the back of the driver’s seat. He was still conscious but he looked dazed. Carlos’ truck behind us had its windows shattered and its inhabitants were out of the truck, Carlos with his Hand of Glory held up high while the pixelated Other shot its fire balls at the unmoving wolves.

“Dean,” I said. “Are you okay?”

He groaned.

My door opened and I started, ready to fight even though I didn’t know how, nor did I have my stick in my hand. Relief flooded through me when I saw that it was Chompers, his clothes were torn and there was grass in his hair. He had a nasty scar over his face and a few teeth missing.

“You might want to get out,” he said. “I don’t think the car is a safe place.”

“The wolves?” I said.

“Are being taken care of,” he said.

I nodded. “Help me help the others.”

Chompers nodded and disappeared. I heard him as he climbed the back of the truck and went to open Dean’s door. He carefully pulled him out.

I got out, with Amber following close behind me. I made sure to grab my stick before I ventured out to pull Chris clear of the car. It meant I saw what we’d crashed into. It was partially hidden by grass, but beyond the blood I saw a dark shape of a cow, its blood marring the brown grass.

“Hey,” I said to Chris. “Hey, you’ve gotta wake up.”

 _This would be a perfect situation for smelling salts,_ I thought before I slapped him. His eyes opened but he looked bleary.

“We crashed,” I said to the unspoken question.

He nodded slowly. “Gotta grab my stuff.”

“Can you?” I asked. “Are you hurt?”

“I can move,” he muttered. It was slow but he pulled himself out and stood.

I went to the back to grab my backpack before I climbed onto the back of the truck. On the floor was a thick blanket with tubes running through it to make it firm, there was a bit of wire that connected the blanket to a battery. Around it were boxes filled with our food, water and gas in case the car ran out.

I was careful to step around everything as I stood on the back of the truck.

“Is my stuff still okay?” Chris asked. He was slow as he climbed onto the back.

“I think so,” I said.

“I have fought well and hard!” the pixelated Other said. “My enemies may not be defeated but I have done enough.” He turned and gave Eric a thumb’s up. “Fight well, young hero.”

He blinked red and the pixels broke apart into light that rose up into the air, the Other spent.

I checked on the webs. There were still wolves but they were further away.

Dean and Dennis climbed onto the back, and after them was Chompers. Victoria, Eric and Carlos got on the top their truck.

“You guys okay?” said Carlos.

“Alive,” Dennis replied. “You?”

The Hitchhiker climbed onto the back of Carlos’ truck to join the others. All things considered, he looked well at ease with the situation.

“I think we’re doing better than you guys,” he said. “The truck can still go, but we won’t be able to get past you.”

“The roads have gotten dangerous lately,” said the Hitchhiker. “People talk about a great beast that walks this place. A wolf as big as a hill, with the horns of a moose.”

“People?” said Victoria. “Which people?”

“People from the village,” the Hitchhiker said. He sighed. “I was happy to hear a car coming. I thought I’d get home. I’d better walk.”

“We’ll walk with you,” said Victoria. “I think we’re going in the same direction.”

The Hitchhiker smiled. “It’s safer in numbers,” he said. “And you all look like you can handle yourselves.”

“Pick up any supplies you can carry,” said Carlos, “we’re in for a long walk.”

***

We didn’t have any ghost children but Chris had a radio that played cassette tapes and from it came a jaunty tune that filled the air. The road wasn’t as filled with grass as before, but it was still too narrow for my liking.

I walked at the back of the group, Chompers to my left and Amber to my right. Eric and Chris walked together, the former carrying the latter’s blanket-thing while Chris typed on his laptop while he walked. He was surprisingly good at doing that without stumbling. The Gallant Knight was out and he carried the battery hooked up to Chris’ blanket thing.

Dennis, Carlos and Dean were up front and they were talking in whispers, I didn’t think the conversation was jaunty, but then none of us were jaunty. Victoria was ahead of me, sharing a conversation with the Hitchhiker.

“…the Man?” said Victoria. “It’s who our acquaintances picked up when they went through this road.”

“Oh, him,” said the Hitchhiker. He had a genial face and warm eyes, and he talked with an ease to him. “I heard he left and his house is vacant. It’s why I’m on the road right now. I’m going to check the place out.”

“You don’t have a house?” said Victoria. The Hitchhiker shook his head. “So where did you live before the Man left?”

“Wherever I was when the sun sets,” he said. He shrugged. “Some of the villagers are kind and they give a man a bed for the night. But if they didn’t…” He shrugged again, “there’s always some place to sleep.”

“And you’re not worried about the dangers that lurk?” Victoria asked.

“Oh, the dangers sleep most of the time,” he said. “The worst things. They only ever wake up when there’s something new and they have to take their roles.”

“Roles?”

The Hitchhiker hummed. “Each of us has a role to play in this life,” the man said.

“Is that literal or metaphorical?” Victoria asked.

“Yes,” the man said with a large smile. “Oh,” he said as the song changed. “I know this song.” He started to whistle along with it and from the looks of it, he wouldn’t answer any more questions.

Victoria looked ahead just as Dean looked back. They both tensed, then Victoria turned to me. She slowed down to walk beside me.

“Still holding up?” she asked.

I swallowed. _We were attacked and crashed because of me,_ I thought. _You guys probably hate me and regret letting me tag along._

I opened my mouth to say something and ended it with a shrug.

“This isn’t what we thought it would be,” said Victoria. She let out a breath. “If I’m being honest, I’m a little freaked out myself. There’s a _lot_ of messed up stuff here and…I want to do something about it. Stuff like this, especially if it’s intentional, shouldn’t be the norm.”

“Yeah,” I said. “But what can we do?” I swallowed. “I messed up. The wolves attacked because of me. What if we tried to help and made things worse?”

“I think what’s important is that we tried, right?” she said with a shrug. “Even if we don’t succeed?”

“I guess,” I said. “I’m sorry, for messing up.”

“It’s…I can’t say it’s okay. The whole truth thing. But…it’s to be expected. The Shuddering Salamanders have more experience than you do but they made a mistake too. Weld’s team has more experience too and they made a mistake, they were attacked by the wolves. These things happen.”

“I still feel guilty,” I said. I took in the injuries that everyone had, slight bruising, limps and in totality the fact that we were _walking._ “And it sucks that I can’t do something to make up for it.”

“You’ll help out in the school, right?” she said. I nodded. “Then that’s making up for it. It’ll help us put all the pieces together and hopefully stop all this, maybe save all the people in here.”

The webs around us flared, there were still three wolves on the prowl and they went on the attack. Eric unfurled the blanket thing.

“Awake!” said Chris.

The battery flared and lights on the blanket blinked on in a pattern. I looked away as a man made entirely of light appeared, he was tall, carrying a bow and arrow and in a swift, smooth motion shot three arrows. The webs from the wolves dulled of colour as they died.

“Sleep!” said Chris.

The man disappeared as the lights turned off.

“Would have _really_ love to do that if we faced something stronger,” Chris said.

“At least we don’t have to deal with any more wolves,” said Carlos.

“And your Other’s still going,” Eric muttered. “Mine’s done. Do you know how hard it was catching that Bugge?”

“I know,” said Chris. “I’m the one who helped you with it.”

_There you go making me feel guiltier._

Dean glanced back towards me. “Maybe we should get Amber in a hallow,” he said. “The wolves went off because Taylor reacted to Amber’s fear. The same thing might happen with the goats that are coming up.”

“I…I don’t have a hallow,” I said. “I haven’t made one yet.”

Victoria pulled off her stud. “I gift you this, Taylor Hebert, expecting nothing in return,” she said.

“Thanks,” I said. I took the stud. “Amber, get in please, and come out when I call you out.”

Amber reached for the stud and was sucked in. I put it in my ear for safekeeping.

 _“This feels better,”_ Amber said. I looked at the others and they didn’t seem like they heard them. _“Safer. It’s away from Chompers. He scared me when you weren’t looking and I felt more scared. I felt a little less. He scares me so much and he likes scaring me. This place scares me too. I think it would make me be chased if it caught me.”_

I swallowed. “Can you quiet down, please, Amber?” I said and I felt bad for it. “Tell me if there’s something I should be worried about.”

 _“Okay,”_ they said.

We kept on our walk, surrounded by tall grass so thick it was hard to see through. We stopped a few times to drink water and eat some sandwiches, Victoria offered some to the Hitchhiker and the man took them gratefully.

“So,” said Victoria. “The song you were listening to is done, can I ask you more about this place?”

“For another sandwich, yes,” he said.

Eric handed one over.

“You talked about roles,” said Victoria. “Does everyone in this place have a role?”

“Everyone does,” he said. “Each has their part to play.”

“If we were to call this a play,” she said. “Would it be fair to say that you were the Man’s understudy, and now you’ve taken on his role?”

The Hitchhiker frowned. “Not his role,” he said. “Not in as many terms, but…perhaps his narrative in the grand scheme? From what I’ve heard. I’m much, _much_ friendlier.”

“Everything I heard,” said Eric. “I can agree with that.”

The Hitchhiker smiled. “Thank you.”

“So…you take on his part, but you have freedom in how you play the role, or maybe the story you can tell in the same…framework?” said Victoria. “Hypothetically, he was the stranger beside the road you were always afraid was going to kill you, while you’re…”

“Maybe you can call me the hitchhiker you meet, the one who’s travelled a lot and who imparts a great lesson,” he said.

“Is that why you’re answering Victoria about this place?” Eric asked. “The others didn’t get anything from the Man.”

“Everything I heard about the Man said he was _very_ old, that he’d been here a long time,” he said. “After some time, the role chafes, it becomes predictable, it’s better to go backstage than to be on the stage.”

“Who decides the role?” Victoria asked. “Is it the Friend? This is their domain, after all.”

“Ah, the Friend,” said the Hitchhiker. “They’re quite an interesting figure from all I’ve heard. Generous, quick to temper, fair in their own way.”

“You say all that you’ve heard a lot,” said Chris. “You haven’t met the Friend?”

“No,” he said.

“I noticed you didn’t answer my question,” said Victoria.

“Goats,” said the Hitchhiker.

Ahead in the road was a flock of goats, more than I could count. Most of them crossed the road without a glance in our direction, but there were three, all black with almost glowing eyes and large horns, their attention on us. As we walked close the three goats _stood._

They’d been standing before but now they stood as men stood. They rose to stand on two feet, their straight fur dropped into cloaks to hide their arms and legs, their heads, though, remained those of goats. They were taller than all of us present and they stared us down.

They seemed regal in stature, standing ghostly still with an imperial air to them.

 _“They’re dangerous,”_ said Amber. But even if they were dangerous, they weren’t going to hurt us if we didn’t show them fear. I felt as webs flared a little, people who were worried that I’d react and the goats would come after us.

I let out a breath and stayed calm.

“Practitioners,” said one of the goats with a woman’s voice, “this is quite the sight.”

“They’ve become frequent of late,” another said, its voice hard to put a gender to.

“It would explain the beast,” the last said with a man’s voice.

“Go forth practitioners,” said the androgynous goat.

“To be around you invites great danger,” the woman-goat said.

The goats who’d been crossing the roads stopped to open a path. There was a goat that had died by the side of the road. Carlos walked ahead without hesitation. We followed, pulled by his gravity, before—

“Wait,” I said. I felt an edge of nervousness, but I didn’t let it consume me. I couldn’t show them fear. I caught that the others were trying to do the same thing.

All three of the goats turned to me.

“Um…that goat,” I said. “The one that’s dead. May I have its blood?”

All three hummed. “You have a stick,” said the goat with the voice of a man.

“Show it to us,” the goat with an androgynous voice said.

I held up the stick.

“Who gave it to you?” the goat with a woman’s voice said.

“An elf,” I said. “Elwin.”

“A name I thought might be lost,” said the androgynous goat.

“Yes, quite some time,” said the man goat.

“Not the blood nor the meat,” said the androgynous goat.

“But perhaps the skin we can part with,” said the woman goat.

“For that is ours.”

“Tell the little prince that there are those who wait for his return.”

I nodded. “I will.”

“Then take, young practitioner.”

I looked at where the dead goat had been and there was only sheep’ skin left behind. I picked it up, it was a little on the heavy side, with the smell of dirt and grass permeating it.

We passed the goats without incident.

“How did you know that would work?” Eric asked.

I shook my head. “I didn’t. Just a shot in the dark.”

“Maybe next time fill us in before you do that?” said Dean. “It could have been dangerous.”

“Yeah. Sorry,” I said.

“It worked out,” said Victoria. “And this feels a _lot_ bigger than I thought it was before.”

“Did they talk with the others?” said Dennis. “I don’t think they did.”

“They didn’t,” said Victoria. “Strange. Unless it isn’t?” she asked the Hitchhiker.

“I’m not as old as most,” he said. “But I’ve heard that the narrative, in a matter of saying, has been known to change.”

“Do you know what changes it?” she asked.

The Hitchhiker shrugged.

“Do you know when the last time it changed was?”

He hummed. “It was before my time,” he said. “So…more than twenty years ago? It’s hard to keep track of time around these parts.”

“Do you know what the narrative was like back then?”

“The same in some ways,” he said. “May I have some water?” Eric handed him a bottle. “There were rules, there were roles to play, and it was more elaborate. I’ve been told that the storyline has become condensed and those who live further off have had to move here for the chance to fulfil their role.”

Victoria nodded sagely. I looked at the others and there were glimmers of understanding.

I swallowed and took a breath, I wanted to close my eyes and couldn’t. I thought about the pieces, what the Hitchhiker said and how it related to everything else we were trying to figure out.

The running hypothesis was that the Friend had tapped into something fundamental, something that had existed before they’d arrived. This place, before the Friend, had a narrative, of sorts, and everyone had their part, but that changed when the Friend arrived more than twenty years ago.

The ‘story’ had been much longer than it was now, and the Friend had found a way to shorten it. But how?

“There’s a road!” Eric said.

“What?” said Victoria.

“When Jameel went through a tour of the Friend’s house,” he said. “There was a road, behind the house. It hadn’t been used for a long time, but the Salamanders spotted it.”

“So…this road doesn’t end at the Friend’s house,” said Victoria. “The Friend just planted themselves on it and virtually took over?”

“How would that even be possible?” Carlos said. “What kind of power did they have before?”

“There are Scourges,” said Chompers. “Practitioners who deal with Bogeyman, who have such a close relationship to the Abyss that their demesnes lie partially in the Abyss.”

“But this isn’t the Abyss?” asked Carlos.

“It isn’t,” he said. “Though the Abyss is close.”

“The only Other place it could be is one of the Paths,” said Carlos. “It’s the only thing that matches.”

“So we think that they built a demesne and then planted it in the middle of a Path?” Dennis said. “How is that even possible.”

“Some people do crazy things with demesnes,” said Eric. “Our aunt knows a guy in her hometown who made a demesne the size of a neighbourhood.”

The others stopped back to look at Eric, then to Victoria to confirm. She nodded.

“I _know,”_ she said.

“How?” said Carlos. “Demesne that big would take a _lot_ to do. Imagine the competition that kind of claim could make.”

“Well, he also has angel for a familiar, so…”

“Holy _fuck_ who is this guy?” Dennis muttered.

“What’s your family’s relationship with him?” Carlos asked. “Because a guy that can get that powerful might be able to help me with my thing.”

“They have a Diabolist in town,” said Victoria. “Maybe _the_ Diabolist family in Canada. I’d steer clear just for that.”

“Ah, right. Fuck,” Carlos muttered. “Back on track, what are we thinking? They claimed the Path, if this is a Path, as a demesne and then changed the rules to get more powerful?”

“If this is a person, maybe we can talk to them,” said Victoria.

“I’m worried that they might be too far gone at this point,” said Dean. “More Other than person. From everything we’ve seen they don’t practice, at least not in the conventional means.”

“If then, at least we can _bargain,”_ she said. “Maybe we can bargain for the life that the Shuddering Salamanders lost.” She looked at the Hitchhiker. “Feel free to chime in at any point if you want.”

The Hitchhiker sang and he had a beautiful voice, one that fell into harmony with the song playing on the radio.

“Funny,” said Victoria and she chuckled a little.

The Hitchhiker smiled and winked. I noted as a network of webs flared: between Victoria and the Hitchhiker; Victoria and Dean; and Dean and the Hitchhiker. I didn’t know enough about reading the emotion from the webs to read what they were feeling but I could tell that it wasn’t good.

“We’ll get to the schoolyard and we’ll get more information there,” she said. “It might fill in the picture.”

There were nods.

On we walked, surrounded on both sides by tall grass.


	13. Chapter 13

“Oh, _fuck,_ wow,” I said, moments after having shrugged on my goatskin cloak. The cloak was largely white with lines of brown running through it, the wool was long and straight, though there were parts that were curly around the ends. Holding it, it hadn’t been that long, but on shrugging it on, it fell so it covered me completely.

“Should we be worried?” Dennis asked.

We’d begun the trip at dawn, at around six in the morning, and now the sun had passed its apex and started its descent _._ I had a ritual to get through and a part of me was worried that things would stretch too long and I wouldn’t be able to go through with it. But we were still ahead of Weld’s group when they’d come here and the Salamanders had made it before evening.

The tall grass had shortened and we could see into the distance. The grass in these parts was greener, there hadn’t been a wolf to come near and we hadn’t seen anything that might be life.

My group, consisting of Dennis and Eric, were at the rear. They were ahead of me, both walking backwards. _They_ _’d_ been the ones to get me to try on the cloak in the first place, not that I hadn’t wanted an excuse to do so. I’d been worried about not having a clasp to hold the cloak together, but by magic it closed neatly without needing one.

“No,” I said. “At least I don’t think so. Just…I’m not as tired as I was before, all the kinks on my shoulders have been worked out.”

“First thing you should _definitely_ do when you get the chance is learn about all the mythology you can on goats,” said Eric. “If those goats back there were elves like we think, you might have to look at Germanic mythology or any European mythology to give you the heads up. It can give you a sense of how to do that unless you can build an Alcazar.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” I said.

“More magic stuff,” he said. “You make a space into an object so you can figure out the type of magic in it, mostly it’s used for curses. I haven’t gone into one, yet, it’s a lot more boring than what I usually do.”

“And what was that back there?” I asked. “It looked like a video game character.”

“It was a Bugge,” he said, as if that explained anything.

“I don’t know what that is,” I said. “Not really,” I amended, because he’d tried to explain it to me even if I couldn’t remember what he’d said.

“Um, well, that was Samson Punchparty,” he said. “He was part of this game whose developers—there were three of them and I can’t remember their names—died before they could get it done. But it was hyped up, so a _lot_ of people wanted to do it but the family of the devs were like no, that’s not going to happen. Someone broke into one of the homes of the devs and stole it, but before it could get out, they died too.”

I whistled.

“Yeah,” said Eric. “The game sort of had that reputation, you know? People tried to steal it and they couldn’t get it. It was a story that was passed around online. Then the family sold it because there was talk of how much people would fork out to buy the thing. People started to buy it, they played the game and almost everyone said what was there wasn’t worth it, but then people started to die and the mythos around the game grew. It got so bad that everyone talking about it were adding fuel to the fire, and the game got a sort of intelligence, especially when someone just dumped the whole thing online. It took on a life of its own, then, and at the height of its power it could come into the real world to fight people it thought were bad.”

“How did you manage to catch it?” I asked.

“Through a _lot_ of work,” Eric muttered. “Most of it is technical, and thankfully Chris and Collin were there to help me or Martin would have gotten it.” Eric grinned. “And he would have _really_ liked it too. He’s got a hate boner going for me because of it. He’ll be pissed when he finds out I spent it.”

“Will you be able to get it back?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Bugges don’t last very long,” he said. “Do you remember that ad that was everywhere about two years ago. _Breathe, be present, and let go of the past._ There was a woman with dark hair, very pale, and she had—”

“I remember it,” I said. “I always thought it was strange, it didn’t feel like it was selling anything. I thought it was like the gorilla in those chocolate ads, but I just always missed what it was an ad for.”

“That was a Bugge, and who knows how it formed, but it did and it didn’t last very long. It got a hold of the TV for about a week, but before anyone could do anything about it, it disappeared.”

“How much of that stuff happens?” I asked. “Things that are magic that seem like they were just there?”

“All of them if the Protectorate is doing a good job,” said Dennis. “Isn’t it hot under there?”

“Not that much,” I said. I stretched a little. “How do I look?”

“It would have been better if you had horns,” said Eric. “You should think about getting them. Maybe from an elf too, so that becomes your _thing._ _”_

“Maybe that’s dangerous, though,” said Dennis. “Elves are the cousins of faerie, and you don’t want to get involved with the Fae or you’ll get caught up in their games. I…oh, wow.”

The smell of cinnamon had reached us.

My mouth started to water as the scent of ginger got into my nose and hit the back of my throat. It felt like I wasn’t the only one who walked with vigour towards the sweet smell of bread and pie and a whole lot of pastries that should have been oppressive and yet weren’t.

It was a few minutes later that we spotted the house. It was made out of brick, most a dark brown but with a few that were lighter; the windows were clear and shutters stood open, all of them a bright green decorated with reds and white. At each corner of the house there was the white of icing and when I laid eyes on it, its smell found my nose, reached down my throat and _shook_ my stomach so that I felt hungry.

“Anyone else _really_ want some of that house?” Dennis asked.

I wasn’t the only one who nodded.

“Let’s walk away really quickly,” Carlos said.

I again nodded, but it was _so_ hard to keep walking. Hunger started to gnaw at me. I ate my sandwich but it was cardboard in comparison to the sweet smells that came from the house. We were far away, but the smell still left me yearning. It reminded me of when Mom had been alive and she’d made apple pie; of when Dad had been a different person and he’d watched Emma and me try, and fail to bake cookies; then it was a memory of Emma’s home as her mom made her gingersnap cookies. There was a bakery Mom had loved in the Lower Bay which made the _best_ muffins and the smell shifted to remind me of that, then a doughnut store that sold one of the best Downtown.

Thirty minutes later the smell finally evaporated which was sweat relief because every part of me had wanted to turn back and take a nibble. At around about the same time we reached the school yard.

There was a thin path leading out from the road to the gates of the school, there was a fence around the school, but it wasn’t well tended and it had been rusted over. The school building was made of wood, so small I would be surprised if it had more than five classes, and most of its windows were shattered.

We had to walk one after the other to make sure we stayed on the path, all through which Amber whispered for me to be careful so I didn’t leave the road.

As we got closer, I spotted a few kids sitting in desks. They were normal looking, though some had odd features. A girl with a mousy expression and a blond boy that had a crack running through his head. When I looked with the sight, there was something writhing under his skin, maybe a bird.

All of them focused towards someone I couldn’t see.

We reached the property then walked into the front door which hung open, one of them off their hinges.

“Okay,” said Carlos, “remember. One page and that’s it. You can take more if you want, but you’ll be losing a bit of focus. It doesn’t make a difference if it’s only once, but that sort of thing can build up. Remember that what we do needs a _lot_ of focus, all the studying you need to do, all the patience you have to have when you’re drawing a major diagram. It’ll be even worse for you if you give up focus and you don’t think you have it in the first place.”

“Why does it feel like you’re talking to me?” said Dennis.

“He was probably talking about me,” said Chris. “I think I’m going to bow out of it. I can’t lose more focus.”

“I think we get it,” said Carlos. “I think everyone would understand if they knew the reason.”

“The reason is that I have dyscalculia,” he said. “It’s already fucking hard to focus on math, I don’t need more of that.”

Carlos nodded. “The only thing we can think of right now is paths,” he said. “So you’ll ask for Paths and then check out whatever book we happen to find. There are other priorities so we’ll have a hierarchy. Dean, Dennis, Eric, Victoria and Taylor.”

“What about you?” I asked.

“Curses,” he said. “I’ll see if I can’t find anything that can help me out. I can’t lose this chance when it might be a difference.”

“You don’t need to explain,” I said.

“I have to,” he said. “You’re giving something up by doing this. We’re sort of asking you to do that. You have to know why some of us aren’t willing to do the same.”

“Okay,” I said.

We started forward.

The school wasn’t empty of life, but there was no one in the halls. Sometimes, when we passed through the classroom, we saw people within. Kids sat at desks, quiet, their attention on the teacher who stood up front. All the kids were dressed in the same uniform in large part, and the clothes the teachers wore was old but with an air for professional. None of the talked or spoke, only stood in place.

Set pieces.

“This is _very_ creepy,” said Eric. “Maybe it’s just me, but schools shouldn’t be empty.”

“Yeah,” Chris said.

Every footstep we took rung out into the air around us as floorboards groaned, things were made worse by the Gallant Knight whose metal made a loud noise that seemed to reverberate. Thankfully, there were no strange rules that said we should be quite, at least not in the school, but the library was coming up and that would be different.

We reached the library and it was emptier, with a silence that was almost oppressive. There was a receptionist’s desk up front, behind which sat a thin woman with grey skin and a nose shaped like a beak; she had grey hair, pulled so tightly into a bun that it pulled back her face. Her eyes were small and dull green, and they didn’t settle, shifting from side to side to take us all in.

“Dean, you’re up,” said Carlos.

Dean nodded. “Gallant, stay,” he said and he walked into the library. “Hello,” he said, his voice hushed. “Would you mind taking me to the section on _Paths?_ _”_

The Librarian looked him up and down before she nodded, stood to her full height of seven feet tall with long arms that reached her knees, fingers which were thin and longer added to the length of her arms. Silent, she gestured the way and Dean followed after her. 

“I think I would like to go exploring,” said the Hitchhiker.

“Really?” said Dennis. “Now?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t been to these parts before. I might not get the opportunity again—”

“That’s a _very_ big might,” said Chris. “If you’ve taken the Man’s place, then you’ll be doing this a few more times.”

“Unless he’s using might because there’s always the possibility that he might take the place of whoever screws up,” said Carlos. He frowned. “Have we lost Dean? Are you going to take his place?”

“No, you haven’t lost Dean,” he said. “But you’re _very_ close to losing him.”

 _What?_ I thought and my heart started to beat faster. _What_ _’s going on? What did we do wrong?_

“You collective or singular?” Victoria asked, calmer than I felt.

The Hitchhiker smiled.

“Have we lost anyone?” she asked.

The Hitchhiker didn’t say anything.

_What the fuck did I miss?_

Everything had suddenly taken on a serious air. I thought about everyone even though it wouldn’t help. I had Chompers and Amber with me. In the group there was Victoria, Dennis, Carlos, Eric, Chris and Dean. We’d come here in a party of six people and I’d come with two others. I’d left Jonah behind because I hadn’t known how I would use him and that make him a liability.

I didn’t have the sense that we’d lost anyone.

“I don’t think we lost anyone,” said Victoria. “He said ‘you’ almost lost him, but he means _me._ He’s flirting with me and it’s getting under Dean’s skin. That’s enough for him to say what he said.”

The Hitchhiker’s smile was warm. “You noticed?”

“Some of my cousins have faerie for Familiars,” said Victoria. “I know what it feels like to be played.”

“Oh, so the jig is up? I thought we’d be acting some more,” said Eric.

“For the rest of us,” said Dennis.

_Thank you._

“He’s been trying to get one over us since the beginning,” said Eric. “You remember what he said about himself? About being the hitchhiker that imparts wisdom? Well, he said he _might_ be called that, but what is he _really_ called? Why doesn’t he out and out say what he is and his narrative role is?”

“They warned me about Practitioners,” he said.

“What were you going to do?”

“Can’t go telling you that, now, can I?” he said. “There’s more coming, I might get one in over with them. But I think I’m done.”

“You’re done?” said Carlos.

The Hitchhiker nodded. “I’ll be going backstage, so to speak, until I’m needed again. Bye, now, Victoria,” he said. The web between him and Victoria flared.

He walked off, whistling a jaunty tune. He turned a corner and his whistling disappeared.

“I didn’t even think there was something up with that,” said Carlos.

“Tell me about it,” said Dennis. “What do you think he would have done.”

“Most likely killed us or tried to kill one of us,” said Victoria. “Probably me. He would have gotten my guard down before he did it. I just can’t think about the karmic costs to it, unless there’s some strange rules in this place like the conditions to being lost?”

“We’re going to have to keep an eye out just in case he tries anything,” said Carlos. “I think he might have a thing for you, Vic, so be on the lookout?”

She nodded. We settled into silence as we waited. It was ten minutes later that Dean returned.

“How did it go?” Carlos asked.

“I got a way to get into one of the Paths,” he said. “It’s called Falling Oak Avenue. It has flying buildings and you have to fall in a way that makes you not touch the ground. I don’t know about many ‘lengths’ there are, but the page I had had only two with some bits of info.”

“Jot it down?” said Victoria. “So we have a sense of things as we wait for the others to get back.”

“Going in,” said Dennis. “Wish me luck.”

“Luck,” said Carlos and Chris at the same time.

Dennis walked in and went to the Librarian. “Can I get some help finding books on Paths, please?”

The Librarian stood and gestured for Dennis to follow.

Dean quickly wrote it down, things he’d read for a single page on a Path that someone from the Protectorate had kept them from because it was too dangerous. Everything I heard about the Path said that it was _fucking_ dangerous: it involved choosing a unique set of numbers to get into a state of falling in terminal velocity, trying to get through building all while not landing on or touching the ground. There were checkpoints that needed to be passed, at which point a length would be passed, and then the person would find themselves where they wanted to be at the end.

“The last part matches how you leave the Friend’s house,” said Victoria. “You walk out the door and you’re home without having to walk back. It _could_ be that, but it’s not conclusive.”

“But the Others of this place don’t seem as violent as this is,” said Carlos.

“Or maybe not yet,” said Eric. “The Hitchhiker left and he was creepy about it.”

“Should we expect a problem?” Dean asked.

“Maybe,” said Victoria.

“Anyone keeping track of him?” he asked.

“None of us are that good with connections,” said Eric with a shrug. “I was watching him with the sight, but he slipped the moment he was out of sight.”

“Same,” said Carlos. “If I had more of a connection, I’d be able to do something, but I didn’t think to do it.”

Dean sighed. “So, this isn’t a lot. Hopefully Dennis gets something firmer.”

“We might be able to use this, though,” said Chris. “Maybe? Because we can give this to the Woman in the Red Cape so she can leave through Falling Oaks Avenue.”

“It’s an idea,” said Carlos. “Seems a little too simple, but we’ll see how it works.”

Dennis got back. “Another Path,” he said. “The Garden Route.”

“Going in,” said Eric.

“Jot it down,” said Victoria. “So we can get a sense of it.”

Dennis had found a Path that hadn’t been too long which meant he’d read all of it. The page had been written by someone who’d still been teaching their apprentice about Paths and it was one for beginners. Getting into the path was easy, the Practitioner was supposed to walk down a road that they enjoy until they were bored, then they were supposed to say, ‘I wish to travel through a place that will titillate the mind!’ after which they would see a way into the Path.

The Path would keep in theme with whatever road the Practitioner had been travelling down, and there would be fascinating things within. There weren’t any challenges down the path and there was a gift, a ‘boon’, at the end. The Practitioner would find that the paths they travelled down were always interesting, with the effect getting more powerful the more the road was travelled.

When Eric got back, it was with the Old Town Road.

“I think you’ll want to read this before you go in there,” said Eric.

***

_** The Old Town Road ** _

__

_Greetings, Dreamer._

_I bid you good travels through roads so well worn that they have been forgotten even by the great Abyss. If you have picked up my work, then I postulate that you were able to do so through one of a few means: First! You are an apprentice ‘o mine and I have finally seen fit to have you travel through a road to greater boons. Second! Knowledge has been sold to you. Third! I have died and you have found my workings._

_The third is the worst of ends and therefore, forgive me if I turn away. If you have been a part of the practice for any amount of time you will have learnt: To look invites others to look back. Forgive them, then, if I do not look towards my own death with any vigour._

_I dally._

_For the first and second. It is my assumption that you have sufficient knowledge that explanations are unneeded, Dreamer, so quickly off we go to the Old Town Road._

_There exists a town where the oldest of Others exists. The home of servants of once great gods who are now forgotten, Others of yore so old they have become myth to those who have awakened, beings whose only hold to reality are the dreams we create._

_To reach this town and be granted boons from these great patrons requires travel down the Old Town Road._

_The dream begins with a path down a well-worn road. It should not be new, for the things which you seek visit are not new, but should be so old it is disused or adequately well-travelled. The road should be straight and you, dear Dreamer, should choose how you will travel. It is a great walk to reach your destination, but it might be safer from the threats that lurk; but a horse might do you well if it is loyal and skitters not easily._

_Travel down the straight road until you see in your way a path that should take you out of the road. Go in, Dreamer, and within the dream’s hold you will find yourself._

_The first leg of your journey will be quite easy, Dreamer. There is a road and you should travel down its length. There will be nightmares at the fray, and the mares will entrance you to step off the path. Do not, Dreamer, no matter the temptation for there is protection along the road._

***

“Okay,” said Victoria. “So can we reasonably say that the road we’re walking down is the Old Town Road?”

“We _can,_ _”_ said Eric. He had a grin. “But is it true?”

“Don’t try to be smart,” Victoria said, but there was a light smile on her. “There’s a few differences, though. Like, you don’t need to start the trip at dawn, and you don’t need to complement the scenery. You just have to walk down the first and keep to it.”

“At least we know we made the right call in not leaving it,” said Chris. “It feels like the road is protection from outside things, and maybe stepping outside of it means that they can come and attack?”

“We still don’t know enough,” said Victoria. “But the Old Town Road is our best bet. Maybe I should go in there and look at another page to see more?”

“Yeah,” said Carlos. “That’d be good. Go while we talk this out.”

Victoria nodded and walked in. “Hello,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “I’ll like to go to the section on Paths, please.”

The Librarian stood and led her off.

“I think I might have an idea,” said Dean.

“Yeah?” said Carlos.

He nodded. “Remember Mr McIntyre? How he made the math class his?”

“Yeah,” Dennis muttered. “He fucking took away the colour. Took off all the posters and inspiration quotes. I think if he could get away with it, he would have painted the walls grey so they seemed more like a prison.”

“I think this might be that,” said Dean. “The Friend might have added all these extra rules so that they could get away with making this space theirs. Look at everything we’ve been doing. The moment we stepped into this place we were validating the Friend. We’re absolving them of the blame of the bad roads, and we do the same thing again when we turn.”

“Also why we keep complimenting them,” Chris said. “Maybe that’s why they’re so angry when we miss things? Because we’re breaking the hold in little ways?”

“I mean, the only punishment from missing the some of the pieces is that _they_ _’re_ angry,” said Eric. “It’s not like the monsters of this place are the one that attack. And then _after_ everyone’s left things change, like the rain with the Salamanders.”

“So maybe the Friend expends a lot of power when they have time to prepare the terrain for the next time around?” said Chris. “Trying to direct how we think this place works?”

“I think that might be it,” said Dean. “Or close enough that it gives us more of an idea how all of this shit works.” 

“Okay,” said Carlos. “If that’s the case, then…are we free from consequence if we don’t play their game? If we don’t follow their rules?”

“We’d need to know what their rules are and what the Old Town Road’s rules are so we can follow those,” he said. “Maybe that would undermine them and strengthen the road. An expectation has been set, and it’s been going for maybe over thirty years. There’s _long_ way to fall.”

“That might be a way,” said Carlos. “But it feels dangerous. There’s a lot we don’t know and I feel like this place, especially since they’ve had it so long, would turn on you more if you weren’t playing by the rules and _still_ broke some of them.”

The others nodded.

“We know more than we did before coming here, that’s for sure,” said Carlos. “We have an idea of what the Friend did to get this power and how they’re keeping hold of it. We thought this was a ritual and a way to suck up its power was to go through it, but that’s not right, this is a Practitioner who was maybe experimenting and the power they have is on metaphorical stilts.”

“We just have to kick them out from under them,” said Dennis with a grin. “I think we could go to this with the Protectorate and have them look at it. Or we might find a person who specialises in Paths.”

“Let’s not get our head of ourselves,” said Carlos. “Let’s—”

I jumped as wood slammed against wood, and there came the loud raucous of big things falling against each other, quickly followed by the sound of smaller things falling.

“Victoria!” said Dean. He and Dennis rushed forward into the library. The Gallant knight followed after them, the Other’s strides long and the sound of metal against metal cutting through the air.

“Chris, Eric, Taylor, stay behind and make sure we’re not taken from behind,” said Carlos as he rushed into the room. He reached into his backpack with one move and pulled out his Hand of Glory.

“Eric,” said Chris. The boy started. “Help in case something tries and attacks.”

“Okay,” said Eric, but he had trouble pulling his eyes away from the library. “Okay,” he said again, his voice stronger. He ran over to the blanket thing Chris had used to form his archer. “What do you want me to do?”

“Check connections and lights,” he said, his laptop open and the click of the keys loud. “Marks of power, if any of them have faded tell me so I can redirect how the power moves.”

“Okay,” said Eric. Chris pulled out a monocle from be bag and handed it over to Eric. The boy started to fumble with the blanket, leaned close so he could see maybe symbols or sigils.

I looked between them and what they were doing, and the library where I sometimes heard the clatter of something loud. My feet bounced a little and I wanted to _move._ I pulled my stick free from the loop in my belt, then pulled out my chain to wind it around my left arm.

“Amber,” I said. “Can you keep an eye just in case there’s something coming?”

 _“Okay,”_ they whispered in my ear.

“Chompers,” I said. He’d been quiet since we’d gotten here. He was hard to read unless he wanted to, and I wasn’t sure what he was feeling now, or what a Bogeyman _could_ feel. “Do you have any good tricks you could use?”

“They might not be so good in a place like this,” he said.

 _In a school?_ I thought. _Is this because you come from the Academy?_

But I couldn’t ask that because of the contract we’d concluded. It would be too close to revealing his weaknesses to others.

“Do what you can,” I said.

He nodded.

There was a bang, then a hiss that filled the air. “Back!” I heard, then a word in a language I didn’t understand, with sounds like they were said at the back of the throat. I caught a flash of light, heard a bang, and then a crash.

 _“Someone’s coming,”_ said Amber. _“Behind you.”_

“Heads up,” I said. I turned around and the web flared. I heard sharp footsteps against hardwood floors.

A man turned the corner, dressed in a white shirt along with grey pants and a heavy coat. His skin was a dark grey like people in old television show, his hair, black and slicked back, and wearing glasses that had static. In his left hand was a whip thing. It wasn’t the sort of whips that had a leather rope in the end, it seemed more like that whips used for horses except it was longer and thicker. It was made of hard plastic that was thick near the handle and thinner near the tip, it was a black that reminded me of Grue’s shadow.

What was most worrying was that it was longer than my stick.

“Troublemakers,” he said. He had an accent that trilled the r’s and put stress on the k’s but I couldn’t tell where it was from. “Go to your classes, now!” he said, and the now sounded like a _no._

We didn’t move.

“Miscreants,” he said and he broke into a run. 

“Stall,” said Chris.

“Chompers,” I said.

Chomper wretched and the hand things he’d sent after me came out, one of them with an eye badly damaged. One scrambled forward while the other tried to dart to the sight and out of the way of the Headmaster’s sight. The first hand jumped and it was dashed aside, hit so hard it was left a bloody smear against the wall. The second, using the distraction, pounced. The Headmaster stopped on a dime, spun and hit the hand hard into the ground.

“My rabbit would have been good to have,” said Chompers.

The Headmaster started his run again.

My heart was still beating hard, but I _couldn_ _’t_ let him get to the others.

I took off in a run even as my heart was close to bursting.

His whip came up and then down.

I skidded to a slow and threw myself to the side. I jumped further than I’d meant, landed on one side of a wall—my shoes found a _lot_ more traction than I was expecting—and used that to pounce off with far more manoeuvrability than I usually had. I landed behind the Headmaster, spun with my stick already moving.

His whip came down and it thwipped as it passed through the air.

Stick and whip meant, and stick was stronger. The whip bent then snapped back with a _crack_ that hit my hand. Pain flared and it was the only thing I could think about for a hot second. My hand opened and my stick escaped.

The Headmaster stepped forward in a rush, his whip going up then coming down. I stumbled back then _leapt._ I sailed a bit away, landed with a stumble and fell on my rear _hard._

I spotted Chompers.

The Headmaster started to turn.

My hand still stinging with pain, I licked it then drew a line in the air to reinforce the web between me and the Headmaster. He hesitated for a second that was enough for Chomper to jump at his leg. He _chomped_ and swallowed. The Headmaster lost his balance and fell to one side. He grabbed at thin air, Chompers tried to move about, but by some magic the web between Chompers and the Headmaster bunched, and the man was able to grab the boy.

_Magic innate to the Headmaster or an interaction between the fact that the Headmaster had dealt with unruly student and Chompers was being one?_

“Ears!” Chompers screamed, desperation in his voice.

I quickly got my arms over my hears a second before a shrill scream cut through the air. The sound sent out a reverberation, I felt as a myriad of webs suddenly connected.

I looked left and the right and saw as students came out into the halls.

“Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!”

I spotted a teacher, their expression stern, with a walk in their step that promised _punishment._

I scrambled up to my stick— _“Duck!”_ said Amber—and I let myself fall forward. I spun around to see the woman from before, tall and willowy, with hard eyes.

“Nail polish!” she said. “Unbecoming of a lady!”

She made to grab and I kicked. She dodged the kick and grabbed my leg, fingernails ripped through my jeans and dug into my leg.

I screamed.

A bit of my chain unravelled and I threw my hand as I leaned forward. She was still close and I managed to hit her face. She freed my leg and scrambled back. I got up and almost fell as my leg threatened to give out.

I stood.

“Down!” I heard and I let myself fall again.

Light flared and the woman was punctured by another arrow. More lights flared as I looked up, taking out all the teachers.

I was left breathing hard while young kids jumped for joy around us.

“Hey,” said Dennis. “Are you okay?”

“Leg,” I said. “Everyone else?”

“Got out in one piece,” he said. “It was the Hitchhiker. Tried to push a bookcase on Victoria and the Librarian went postal with the noise.”

“She’s okay?”

“A bit banged up, but alive,” he said. “Can you walk or do you need help? We’ll leave the school, check on injuries and move on. We won’t be able to get more on the Old Town Road right now.”

“Okay,” I said.

The school had more activity as we left. We’d killed all the teachers and the kids had a day where they were free and seemed to be enjoying it.

We got out of the school and into the road. We spent a good few minutes tending wounds, drinking water and eating. Victoria looked a little frazzled, her hair unkempt and blood on her hands; Dean had his arm in a sling, while Carlos and Dennis looked okay.

Chris’ blanket thing with the lights had been lost, burned because they’d rushed the process, but he still had his battery which he’d given to the Gallant Knight. Eric stood close to his cousin, at times giving her long looks.

Chompers clothes were torn in places, he still had the wound from fighting with the wolves and now he had a tooth missing. He spent a majority of the time playing with another tooth that was close to falling.

Through unspoken words, we started walking.

All of us were _so_ tired.

My leg flared with pain every time we walked, but after a while, it became easier to put pressure of the leg even if the wound still flared with pain.

We reached the manor, bounded by a neatly trimmed hedge, a tall house that looked Victorian, with cars in the driveway. I spotted Dean’s truck as one of them, free of all the dents and scratches.

“Dick move,” he muttered, but we moved on.

We spotted another house, one that would belong to the Man. The Hitchhiker was there and he waved at us as we passed.

Victoria directed the middle finger at him and though I couldn’t hear it, I saw as the man laughed.

“We don’t talk from this point on, don’t mention what we’re trying to do or what we already figured out,” said Carlos. “We’re just meeting and leaving, the rest we’ll figure out outside. Chin’s up. We’re almost done.”

On we walked until we came upon the Friend’s house.

***

The house was a log cabin bounded by a wrought iron fence with furnishings of flowers crafted by the metal, vines and flowers grew through the fence, some blooming in reds, whites, blacks and purples. The house sat at the centre of the yard, to the left was a wall topped with chopped logs, so many that I would have been afraid to get close less they fall on me; and to the right was a little garden with pumpkins and squashes.

The log cabin looked in good condition, with a porch that had one of those swinging chairs, it swung even without a person sitting on it, and lavender growing around the beams that kept the overhang up. The door to the house was closed and one set of windows were open, upon which a pie set, its smell sometimes drifting our way.

Carlos, in the lead, walked to the gate and said, “We’ve come to visit the Friend!”

The door opened and the Friend stepped out.

They were only a little taller than I was, and I was the tallest person in our group with the exception of the Gallant Knight, with a frame on the muscular side. They had straight, black hair, so long that it reached the small of their back. They done a style that had two, three-strand rope braids that were set so they were upfront, while the rest of their hair was left to fall straight on their back.

Their hair was shiny and it caught the light so it seemed to have a sheen.

“Okay,” said Carlos. “Is anyone else jealous of their hair?”

“Yes,” I said, a little too quickly.

 _“Very,”_ Victoria muttered.

“Priorities?” said Dennis.

“Dennis, you use body wash on your hair,” said Carlos. “So no.”

“No, dude,” said Eric. “Just… _no._ _”_

“I feel attacked,” Dennis muttered.

The Friend’s skin was the tan of someone who spent a lot of time in the sun. They wore clothes made out of leathers and wool, coloured in bright blues and reds, with square and triangular patterns. It felt like they wore more clothes than anyone should, too many layers, but they carried themselves with confidence and that made the mishmash of clothes come together.

To the sight the Friend was a figure in _brightness._ It wasn’t the same bright I’d seen on Victoria’s father, this was something else. It reminded me of desks at school, things that had so much attention that they were veritably _alive._ Everything about the Friend, from hair to well-manicured toes, had a similar light.

“More visitors,” they said, their voice sweet. They smiled and it left me a little flustered. They friend’s ears were a little big but they framed their face well. “I’m surprised. I don’t get them so much and it seems I’ve been getting more and more, lately.”

 _You_ _’ve got to know what that means, don’t you?_ I asked. _That we_ _’re trying something? Especially since so many of us are Practitioners._

“You sent out ways to visit you,” said Carlos. He shrugged.

The Friend hummed. “Even so,” they said. “Come in, _guests,_ so you might have food and drink at my table.”

They flicked a hand and the gate opened. They turned and went to the house. We followed. I was near the back of the group and Chompers was by my side. The steps groaned a little as the Gallant Knight stepped on them.

“Leave your bags in the cupboards, please,” said the Friend, “and any weapons. You will not be harmed so long as you have my hospitality, that would be unbecoming of a friend or a good host.”

“What about Others?” Dean asked. “Do they count as weapons?”

“The knight would, yes,” said the Friend.

“Gallant,” said Dean. The knight walked around Dean and disappeared mid-step.

“I’m a boy,” said Chompers. “A schoolboy.”

The Friend turned to him. “I know you are a Bogeyman,” they said.

“I never said I wasn’t,” said Chompers. “But I’m from a school in the Abyss, and I’m a boy.”

“You have any weapons on you?” they asked.

“My teeth are a weapon,” he said. “Just as yours and just as anyone else? And what is a weapon anyway? These are Practitioners and their words can be used as weapons, should they be left behind. Because—”

The Friend held up a hand. “You may come and dine at my table, Bogeyman.” They turned to me. “But since there exist ties from you to him, Practitioner, you will ensure that he behaves.”

I didn’t say anything.

“An answer,” they said.

_Am I afraid?_

“Yes,” I said.

The Friend’s eyes narrowed but they turned. “Come. Come. You will be tired and perhaps hungry. I have food prepared.”

“May we have a tour before we eat?” said Carlos.

“I’d also like to use the restroom,” said Eric. “It’s been a long day, and I’m sure the ladies are embarrassed about asking.”

“Yes,” said the Friend. “The bathroom is down the hall, third door on the left.”

All of us went. Carlos got first right and then Victoria because the two of them wanted to go on the tour. Then it was me, where I spent some time splashing water of my face and checking for any scars that I’d need to explain away to Dad. There weren’t any on my face, through my hand was red where the whip had it. I’d have to figure out a way to hide it.

I got out and ambled around. I found a study with a few bookcases and looked over them without touching anything. There was hospitality to be observed and I didn’t want to go over the line.

The house, what little I saw, was really comfortable, and to the sight everything glowed to show that care and attention was devoted to it. It was unsettling that a place this homey could be a product of a lot of people disappearing or being killed by the wolves or the Hitchhiker or the denizens of the school.

The tour over, the Friend called us into the dining room where a long table had been laid out, filled with food, _well cooked_ food.

“Oh, wow,” I said. “This looks fantastic.”

The Friend beamed. “Does it really?” they said. “Tell me your name.”

“Taylor,” I said. “Taylor Hebert.”

“Well, Taylor, thank you, and you are wearing the most beautiful cloak. If I might ask, where did you get it from?”

“From three goats while we walked here,” I told her.

“The elves?” they said. “They aren’t known to grant boons. Either your very fortunate or quite _un_ fortunate.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, my heart beating a little faster.

“Please, all sit so we might speak while we dine,” they said. There was meat and veggies on the table, all well-made and _all_ smelling nice. The Friend took a bowl and started to plate for herself. We did the same. “Elves are gardeners, but not like humans. They are long lived, near immortal, and much like faeries they can weave intricacies into how they tend their gardens and how they grow their plants. I wonder what vision these elves have where you’re concerned, Taylor.”

My eyes were wide and my heart was beating hard.

“You never know if a seed is going to grow well,” said Victoria. “So you plant a lot of them. It could be the same thing here for Taylor. Planting many and then refining.”

“Were it a person, then perhaps yes, but the elves have an eye for these things,” they said. “Forgive me. I know Carlos, Victoria and Taylor, but how about the rest of you?”

Introductions were shared and in between them there were compliments on the food that the Friend had prepared and it was _really_ good, especially after how tired we all were and how everything had started to taste like cardboard after the gingerbread house.

“What about you?” Dean asked. “Is the Friend your name? It seems like a title, not a name.”

“It can be both,” said the Friend.

“But in this case, is it?”

“It is,” they said.

“How?” asked Victoria. “I’ve met people who wanted to change their names and it was hard.”

“Oh, this wasn’t easy, either,” said the Friend. “In a matter of speaking, I had to lose myself. Untethered, I shucked off such constraints as gender and a name to become the Friend.”

“How did you manage not to go into the Abyss?” Chompers asked.

“Because I was accustomed to being lost,” they said. “Tell me of yourselves, how did a motley group come to find their way into my domain.”

Chris started to tell the story, though he made sure not to make it known that there was coordination between us and other Practitioners, or that we were trying to get this to stop.

I looked outside to see how close the sun was to setting.

I had to get home soon.

Victoria noticed too. “It’s starting to get late. We have gifts for you before we can leave. Some of us have things to do.”

“Oh, of course, of course,” said the Friend.

“Some of them are in our backpacks, do you mind us getting them?”

“Go ahead,” they said.

We quickly went and got back with our gifts in hand. The Friend looked close to elated as they looked from unwrapped gift to unwrapped gift.

Carlos started, he handed over a wooden mask with a placid expression, painted in red and blue.

“This the first mask I made for myself for hiding purposes,” he said. “The magic in it is spent, but it’s been with me for a while and it has sentimental value.”

He gave it to the Friend.

“Thank you for your gift, Carlos Alvarez,” they said as they took the mask, “and a gift in turn. News, ill news, but news which will help you, nonetheless. Your _abuelo_ has died,” Carlos tensed, his eyes wide. “Your cousins will come to America and the curse will come with them, drawn by the clustering of your bloodline. Make your preparations.”

Carlos didn’t move, stuck on the spot. Dennis got close and threw an arm over Carlos’ shoulder. Carlos visibly shook, moments from breaking down.

“Another gift, please!” the Friend said, too happy, especially after the news they’d just delivered.

“I need some air,” said Carlos.

“Give me a sec and I’ll be right there,” said Dennis. Carlos nodded and left. “My gift,” he said, resentment in his voice. He pulled out a watch with a broken face. “It’s got a broken face but it always seems to work. I have no idea how.”

The Friend took it and looked it over. “It’s wearer was taken before their time,” they said. Dennis frowned. Hadn’t he realised? Or maybe something else. “Quite the gift, yes, quite the gift. Dennis Cooper, you’ll have a year with your father, a quarter of that will be in good spirits.”

Dennis let out a shaky breath, there were tears at the corners of his eyes. He turned and left without a word.

“More gifts,” said the Friend.

None of us moved.

“You,” said the Friend, with a point at Eric. “Your gift.”

Eric pulled out a harmonica. He swallowed before he said, “This is a harmonica I tried to learn to play.” He shrugged. “I’m not using it anymore. Please don’t tell me the song that’ll be playing while either mom or dad dies, please.”

The Friend hummed. They reached into the folds of their clothes and pulled out a comb. They gave it to Eric.

“Eric Pelham, you should now be able to change your hair to any colour you please,” they said. “Just run that comb through it as you would with any glamour.”

“Oh, thank god,” Eric muttered. “Thanks.”

Chris was next. He had a small video game, old from the looks of it. “It’s a Game Boy,” he said. “Imbued with magic so it can always run. Something to keep you busy if you’re bored.”

The Friend took it. “Christopher Roberts, your mentor thinks you’re quite gifted,” said the Friend.

Chris smiled.

I stepped forward because I couldn’t take the suspense. Two gifts had been good, but the bad had been _really_ bad. I wanted this over and done with.

“This is one of the last books I read with my mother before she died,” I said. “It’s my copy.”

The Friend took it. My heart started to beat faster as I waited for her gift.

“A bit of history,” they said. “Taylor Hebert, your maternal great-great-great grandfather is a betrayer. He had the trust of a great many people, but he chose to lie to them so it would benefit him and his family. That taint still lingers on you and yours to this day.”

 _Maybe that_ _’s why I have bad karma,_ I thought. _Because of him, whoever he was._

Dean was next. He held up a silver locket. “I bought this,” he said. “It looked nice.”

“A thoughtless gift,” the Friend said with a bit of a frown. They turned and walked over to a cupboard. They pulled out a silver spoon and gave it to him.

“I had another gift,” said Victoria. “But I thought this would work too.” She gave the Friend a hairbrush. “You have very beautiful hair,” there words were a compliment, but the tone was terse.

“Thank you,” said the Friend. “My gift to you. Quite complicated. Quite complicated.” They hummed. “Perhaps word. Warning. Guard your heart, Victoria Dallon. When Dean Stansfield meets with the match set by his family, and begrudgingly, he will be enamoured.”

Victoria and Dean shared a look. Dean’s shoulders slumped. Victoria’s hands clenched into fists.

I caught sight of the web between them, how it soured.

“Gifts have been shared,” said the Friend. “It was a pleasure to have your company. You may leave. Step one foot out of the gate and you will find yourself a few steps from where you want to go.”

“I have to go,” I said. “My ritual.”

“Go,” said Chris. “We’ll call.”

First I reached into my bag for a pen and then drew an attention turning diagram on two pieces of paper. One I stuck to me and the other I stuck to Chompers.

“Bye,” I said to the rest. I got nods. I thought about home as Chompers and I stepped out of the gate.

A step and everything around me suddenly shifted, I was in a little alley between houses, three houses away from home.

“Danny Hebert,” I said and the web flared, _away_ from home.

I let out a sigh of relief. I had time to get showered and decompress before I had to deal with Dad. I started for home.

***

“So what happens now?” I asked, my phone on loudspeaker. I’d done my ritual, showered, called Dad to tell him I was home, then compiled a loose series of notes so I wouldn’t forget everything I’d learned today. Chompers was in the basement in his circle and Amber was out of her hallow and searching the house for anything dangerous.

“Now we talk to everyone about everything we figured out,” said Victoria. “I don’t think anyone’s going to be in the mental space to go back in there for a while so we’re going to push for more people to have their go through.”

“Yeah,” I said. “What happened back there was _really_ heavy.”

“Tell me about it,” said Victoria. “But at least this is close to being dealt with. We figured a _lot_ about the Friend, and I think the next part is going to really hurt them and whatever they’ve done.”

I nodded, then said, “Yeah. Can you keep me updated?” I asked. “Just so I know what’s going on? With the Woman in Red and the Friend and everything?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Want the heads up if we’re going to be trying anything else? We might go down the Old Town Road when we get all the pieces. But that might be in the far future if we even do it. There’s just a lot.”

“Yeah. I’ll be busy for a while,” I said. “There’s something I’ve been putting off for a while. I don’t know, almost dying twice in the same day gave me the confidence to finally tackle it.”

“I’m glad some good came from this,” she said. She sighed. “Listen, sorry to cut this short but I’m _really_ tired and I want to sleep. I’ll maybe bring back your bike tomorrow. Me or a parent.”

“Sure,” I said. “I need to sleep too. I’m _beat._ _”_

“Bye, Taylor,” she said.

“Bye.”

I dropped the phone then lay on my back. I closed my eyes for a second and darted away as my alarm rang. I had to release Chompers. I checked on Dad with the sight and he’d gone to sleep. He must have tried and failed to wake me up.

“Listen,” I muttered to Chompers. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to wake up again, so let’s make a deal. The same one we made when I was going to Victoria’s place. You get freedom until your second deadline, and you give me those eyes as payment.”

“Agreement accepted,” said Chompers.

I had a few more hours of sleep and nifty eyes that I was going to sell to Mr Calvert so I could start repaying Dad for the bike. When Chompers came back, he had all his teeth back and he no longer had a scar on his face. I _could_ have been worried but I was honestly too tired.

I went to bed again and slept like the dead


	14. Chapter 14

“How was the camping trip?” Dad asked as we ate breakfast Sunday morning. I still felt _so_ tired, especially after having to wake up to let Chompers in at two in the morning.

My sleep last night had been plagued by a stream of vivid nightmares involving everything I’d seen. The people in cages, the woman with the tendrils that had been screaming for help, the Woman in Red, and everything else. I’d been caught in the sort of sleep where I jolted awake sometimes and, in the minutes awake, it felt like hours stretched.

I took a deep breath and took in the scent of my tea. I gave myself a moment to think about the answer.

“Camping involves a lot of sleeping in a tent that doesn’t have heat,” I said.

Dad snorted and smiled. “You’re not a camping girl?” he said, that same smile in his voice. He had coffee in front of him and he’d made it _strong._ He took a sip.

“I liked being with the others,” I said.

“But not the camping?” he said again.

“The camping I didn’t enjoy so much, yeah,” I said as I thought about Chompers being a dick and trying to scare us.

“What sort of stuff did you do?” he asked.

“Walked a lot,” I said.

“I think that’s called hiking,” said Dad.

“Talked about interesting stuff,” I said. “There was some relationship drama between Victoria and Dean—”

“Dean Stansfield, right?” Dad asked. “Mark mentioned him.”

“Mark?”

“Mark Dallon,” said Dad.

“You call him Mark?”

Dad shrugged. “I had lunch with him yesterday,” he said. “Talked to him about…well…your religious thing and how to…interact with it. He practises it too, did you know?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Their entire family does.”

“Says a lot about how what we know about people,” he said. “He was talking about supporting you, that sort of thing, and how to raise a teenager who’s…spiritual in the same way you are. I don’t want to do anything insensitive, you know? I want you to explore your spirituality however you want.”

A smile stretched on my face and I looked down. I felt a well of emotion and shrugged it off.

“Sorry,” said Dad. “I made this about me. You were talking about your trip.”

I shrugged again. “Things sort of ended badly,” I said. “One of the guys, Carlos, found out that his grandfather died. Which…”

“Yeah,” said Dad. “That can be hard.”

I nodded then worked through my breakfast.

“I’m going to go upstairs to do some stuff,” I said. “Finish up homework and that sort of thing. One of the Dallons might be coming over to bring my bike.”

“I’ll be here,” said Dad.

There was homework to be done, and I did a few minutes of that just so I wasn’t caught in a lie. Then I turned to magic. I’d already jotted down notes of interesting titbits from last night, but I hadn’t neatly compiled them into my grimoire yet and I wasn’t in the mood to do that, so I turned instead to searching all I could about _goats._

The first thing that came from the search were Satyrs and Fauns, from Greek and Roman mythology. It wasn’t Germanic like Eric had suggested, but there was a _lot_ to learn there, especially about the similarities between Greek and Roman myth. Faun and Satyrs both were bottom-half goat, which I wasn’t sure fit into what the cloak could offer me, but it was worth a read nonetheless.

Reading about Faun and Satyr told me they borrowed their forms from the god Pan, which I made a note to look into because that was another topic that might be interesting. Fauns were connected to bringing fear in men, but also served as guides in some stories. Satyrs, though, were more connected to sex and the Greek god Dionysus who seemed a lot like a party god.

There was more information on Satyrs than Fauns, but I was aware that all the information I was getting was from the internet and I couldn’t trust, firstly, its authenticity and secondly, if it tracked with everything connected to the practice.

It felt like if I wanted to know more, I’d either have to go to primary sources or talk to Practitioners that might know more about goats and the connected mythology. The former seemed the tedious option, but I really didn’t want to deal with Practitioners especially when they might ask me for payment.

I pulled back a little and did more of a general overview so that I could get a broader sense of goats in relation to history and mythology, as well as places to look for more in-depth searches.

The broad strokes seemed to be that goats were known to symbolise fertility, vitality and ceaseless energy. In the past, goatskin was used to carry water and sometimes as parchment, which distracted me as an idea hit.

I had to go to the basement for the really heavy work, bringing everything I’d moved up so I could start working. I got my goatskin cloak and turned it over. I started to draw a rune on the circle with a pen and it was surprisingly easy to draw on, sucking up the ink and letting the circle I’d drawn on stay.

I thought about what I wanted to draw because it felt important. I thought about an attention turning diagram, but I didn’t like those for how fickle they were. They disappeared pretty quickly and there was the rebound effect. But with my experimentations on the day and night runes they could help in making it hard to fade the attention turning diagrams if they weren’t used right.

I pulled out my notebook and started to draw rough sketches of diagrams, mixing together the warded day rune like I’d used on Chompers’ circle, as well as ways to break connections, but I quickly stopped because my mind felt scattered and a bit tired. Like a part of it was going through the motions without a firm drive.

“This isn’t productive,” I muttered to myself.

I went over to my backpack and picked up my exam pad and started on a new page; with pen in hand I started to jot down all the things that I wanted to do: There was Chompers and the Alabaster situation; I wanted to talk to Mr Calvert about selling the eyes, and perhaps so he could get me a meeting with the elves so that I could deliver the message from the goat elves; there was Jonah the Hex, and whether I could do something with him or if it would be better to sell him; I wanted to figure out all the magic of the goatskin coat so I could start interacting with it; there was reading up on hallows and making my own; and compiling my notes.

In a word, a _lot._

But I had to break it down, figure out the most important things and those that could be completed first. I didn’t know the scope of the thing with Chompers and I’d already wasted a lot of time. I needed to start working on it. I also needed to get the meeting with the elves out of the way as quickly as possible so I didn’t forget and become forsworn.

One was easier than the other.

I went upstairs to call Mr Calvert.

He answered after three rings. _“Taylor,”_ he said. I couldn’t read anything from his tone, but a part of me realised it was Sunday, that he might be enjoying time with his family.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” I said.

 _“I had a good hunch you would call,”_ he said. I frowned. _“I did a reading on you when I heard that you and New Wave were going to be dealing with something big and strange. I wanted to know if I should step in.”_

“Did Lisa tell you about that?” I asked, my voice even.

 _“No,”_ he said. _“It wasn’t Lisa. How was your trip?”_

“It…we got good information,” I said. “Victoria thinks things are going to resolved.”

 _“Good, good,”_ he said. _“I have something to tell you, but I don’t want to interrupt the reason for your call.”_

“Right,” I said. “I need to meet with the elves. I met some elves on the path to the Friend, and they asked me to deliver a message to Elwin.”

He hummed.

“Should I be worried?” I asked. “The Friend said I might be a seed that the elves are planting for a particular result.”

 _“That is very likely true,”_ he said. _“How much do you know of the Fae?”_

“Not a lot, but people mention them and I get the sense I’m supposed to stay away,” I said.

 _“That would be for the best,”_ said Mr Calvert. He hummed again. _“I am in Brockton Bay and I will be for the next few months. I think it’s time that I took on my duties as mentor more seriously since you seem to be getting involved in matters of greater scope.”_

I still didn’t trust him, but I didn’t think I could just refuse lessons when there was so much stuff I probably still didn’t know.

 _And it might help me figure him out,_ I thought. If I did, then I would know why Lisa had warned me against him or why he was doing all the things he was. Then I could use him with less risk.

“Okay,” I said.

 _“Good,”_ he said. _“Can you avail yourself tonight so we might meet Cyneweard and Elwin so you can deliver your message? I’ll tell you more of the Fae and the danger they pose. At a few minutes to midnight.”_

“Okay,” I said. “There something else I want to talk to you about, but we can do it when we meet.”

 _“I look forward to it,”_ he said. _“I’ll be seeing you.”_

That done, I went to the basement and stopped in front of the Alabaster head. I waited for a long moment before I let out a breath, broke a line from the circle of darkness, and, as stomach churning as it was, picked up the head and put it on the table.

I ran my hand through its hair and used that to see the network of webs that sprouted from the head. I didn’t follow any of them, because I knew that to _look_ would mean whatever was on the other side would be able to look back and I didn’t want them to see where I lived. Instead I took in the general sense I had of webs, their light, thickness and tautness.

There were at least three hundred webs that stretched out from the head, but there were differences that were visible, clusters of threads the pointed to different _parts_ of the Alabaster’s head. I knew that Chompers had added false parts to the head and I used the different webs to get a sense of the different body parts that had been added.

A section of hair, a few teeth, a tongue, an eye, the tongue.

 _They’re messing up the reading,_ I thought. _You know what you have to do._

I went to my supplies and got out my box cutter. I cleared some of the Alabaster’s hair to get at the false patch, then with a push, pressed my box cutter on the Alabaster’s scalp. Blood, _fresh blood,_ poured out of the wound and coated white hair and my fingers.

My stomach rolled, my hand opened and I dropped the box cutter. I stepped back, breathing hard.

When I looked at the Alabaster’s face, it was twisted in pain.

 _I can’t do this,_ I thought.

_But I have to do this._

“Before—” I stopped and looked at the patch of darkness. If Chompers heard he might try to mess with me. I went upstairs to my room. “Before the end of tomorrow I’m going to cut off a patch of the Alabaster’s hair, or may the spirits take my power.”

It was terrifying, the promise, but I needed to be able to hold myself accountable or I feared I wouldn’t be able to do it.

Mr Dallon arrived in the evening with my bike, he and Dad shared a few words before he left. Dad was smiling after the conversation.

“Dad,” I said, “do you have a man crush?”

Dad chuckled. “What?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, Dad, you seem to gush whenever you meet Mr Dallon,” I said.

“He’s just…a swell guy, you know?” Dad said.

“Dad you have a crush,” I said with a broad grin.

“Eh,” said Dad. “I’m going to meet the other branch of their family, Neil Pelham. We’re going out for drinks.”

“Look at you,” I said. “Meeting with the upper crust of Brockton Bay.”

“I think if I was friends with them, maybe the Stansfields, I might be able to get the ferry started. People don’t like to mention it, but everything in politics seems to be about who you know. If I know the Dallons and the Pelhams, then I might be able to use that.”

 _I wonder if that’s really true in your case, or if it’s the family karma making things you’re trying to do less likely to work,_ I thought.

I’d have to work to make sure this worked out for him. There was bad karma. I wasn’t totally sure, but it may have been a domino into the accident that had happened with Mom, a slight nudge which had cascaded into something big. I had to make sure that that wasn’t in play anymore, that Dad didn’t have that hanging over him, and that, if I had any children, they wouldn’t beleaguered by the same thing.

Which meant doing going, learning as much magic as I could and dealing with fucked up situations like the Friend or how Chompers had corrupted an entity that served disenfranchised people.

Tomorrow, no matter what, I’d have to push my squeamishness aside and start to _deal_ with Chompers and the Alabaster.

“But don’t let this get in the way of your friendships,” said Dad. “Just some adult things.”

“Okay,” I said.

After dinner we watched a movie and I went up to my room to get my preparations done for the trip with Mr Calvert.

As usual, I had paper with an attention turning diagram on Chompers when he went out of his circle. I gave him the same deal as before for the gloves. He’d be free for the night, but he’d be still be bound by the turns of the contract of his freedom deal and he’d have to come back at his second deadline.

I set my watch so that at one in the morning so I had warning to get back home for Chompers.

Near midnight, the witching hour, I was dressed in my goatskin coat, my backpack on filled with a few supplies—I made sure to have tape in case I needed, I still didn’t have smelling salts but I’d buy them tomorrow—my stick was in a loop in my belt and I had my chain wound around my left arm.

Mr Calvert rolled up a few minutes later.

***

“Elves are gardeners while faeries are storytellers and actors,” said Mr Calvert as he drove. We were going to the camping grounds but the path we were taking felt roundabout. Mr Calvert had first gone Downtown before turning towards the Hill which would take us to the Heights until finally, we reached our destination.

“In the end they’re the same,” he continued. “They wrap you in their work to serve their own ends, but the _how_ is different. Faerie use glamour, and how they interact with others around them is much alike to their preferred magic. Glamour is entrancing and gets your attention, but the more attention you give it, the more of a hold it has on you and the more it can sway you.”

“So…” I said. “Faerie are attractive and pull you in, then when they have, you’re a part of whatever they’re doing?”

Mr Calvert nodded. “The Fae are storytellers,” he said again, “but they also like to wrap themselves in those narratives. They are long lived creatures, they enjoy beauty, splendour and _excitement,_ and much of what they do is wrapped around that fact. To be close to a faerie means excitement, it means keeping track of a variety of plots, it means tracking every word that’s spoken and its implication, every movement made and its eventual result, every item of clothing and what it says, the intention it communicates and the part it adds to the greater narrative.”

“Sounds complicated,” I muttered.

He smiled. “Yes,” he said. “It is, but there are gifts to be earned when playing a faerie’s game and some people thrive in that world. But most of those people are those who grew up dealing with the Fae. If you were to ever deal with the Fae, I would say make yourself as boring as you can so you aren’t caught in their narratives. This will be hard, of course, but it’s often the best thing to do.”

“I’m not going to make any promises,” I said. “I have no idea if that’s in my control.”

“Good,” he said with a smile.

“Okay,” I said. “So…would I be wrong if I said that faerie focus on the short-term plots and plans, while elves focus on long term?”

“You wouldn’t be entirely wrong,” said Mr Calvert, “but you would be underestimating them. Elves do focus on the long yes, they plant, tend and watch what they’ve planted grow in a way that’ll help them in the future. Faerie work in the short term and the long. They keep themselves busy with small plots that drive the narrative towards a greater goal.

“Imagine, if you will…a book spread into arcs,” he said. “The first few arcs seem to be monster of the week, no overarching narrative. But as everything _culminates,_ you see that all the little pieces explored in the previous monster of the week arcs helped to drive the greater narrative to the end point.”

“Okay, okay,” I said. “So elves, they don’t do the monster of the week thing? Their focus is on the end goal. They pick, tend and move pieces so that they can deal with something in the end?”

“Not always so impactful,” he said. “In the great garden of an elf, you might be nothing but a mushroom that grows beside others to make a faerie ring. You alone mean nothing, but you along with others grown for a similar purpose, you, the royal you, come together to build a door into the elf realm.”

“If that’s case,” I said. “Should I keep my distance? I’ve been using the stick that Elwin gave me and it’s helped me a lot. It’s the reason I have this cloak.”

“I would say…keep it in mind,” he said. “It’s…not better, but marginally safer to work with the elves than it is faeries, for you more than me.”

“Because I’m still a seed, metaphorically speaking,” I said. “But you’re maybe a sapling or something? Still keeping with the metaphor.”

“Metaphorically speaking, yes,” he said.

“So what do you get out of taking the risk?” I asked. “Is it worth it?”

“For that, I would need to tell you my plans and we’re not ready for that yet,” he said.

“Yet?” I asked.

“I think you’ll be ready soon,” he said.

“Just so you know, that’s…worrying,” I said.

He hummed. “In an effort not to sour our relationship I will say this,” he said. “There are a lot of things that need to be changed in this city. There are two goblin warrens in the Bay and there’s threat of a third one in the train yard; the second most powerful Practitioner circle are Nazis and because of them, Practitioners of colour haven’t been able to gather without reprisal or make demesnes without first having to beg to the Protectorate for aid. There is a lot that’s _unjust_ that needs to be fixed.”

“And you’re the one who’s going to fix that?” I asked.

“I’m the one who hopes they’ll be able to, yes,” he said.

I ruminated the words. There were a _lot_ of shitty things I’d discovered and I thought about everything connected to the Friend, and all the people who’d disappeared. I thought about Skidmark and how the Protectorate had dealt with him, which was pointing the gangs at each other and then cleaning up the mess.

“What’s my part in it?” I asked.

“I want…the mentor-apprentice relationship is supposed to be familial in a respect. I will admit that I don’t see you as a daughter, surrogate or otherwise, nor do I have heavy ties towards you, but…I’ve watched different people and their interactions with their apprentices. Most want their apprentices to be mirror images of them, which means restricting what they can and can’t learn, directing their path. I want you to study whatever magic you can. I want to help you in your path. Then, at the end, when I explain the reason I do, I hope that you’ll help me because you want to.”

I let out a long breath. “Okay,” I said. “I guess.”

 _Just that I don’t trust you,_ I thought.

“Not trusting me is fine, Taylor,” he said. I turned to look at him, my heart beating quickly. He smiled. “I didn’t read your mind, but I can see it in the tie between us. I would be disappointed if you did trust me. A level of distrust means you’re on your toes and you’re less likely to get in trouble, which will transfer to me in part.”

I nodded again and looked forward. We were quiet most of the way to the camping grounds. We got into the trail to the elves’ domain and after a short walk we arrived to Elwin who was already waiting for us.

He beamed brightly. “Hello, visitors,” he said. He turned to me. “Oh, wow, that’s a beautiful coat.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I got it from goats that told me to give you a message.”

“Oh? For me?” he said, excited. “What did they say? What did they say?”

“Paraphrasing,” I said. “They said that to tell the little prince that there are those who are waiting for him to return.”

“Oh,” he said. “I thought it would be something more exciting.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” I said on instinct.

“If you’re really sorry, then come climb with me,” he said. “Goats are good at climbing.” Before I could say anything, he grabbed my hand and pulled. “Come on, come on.”

A tug and I stumbled forward. He got running and I trailed after him. He let go and darted forward. He stepped on an exposed root, used that to get jump up, landed in a quick run up before he jumped over to a branch.

I was taller and jumped. My foot landed on the trunk of the tree with a _lot_ of traction and I used that for leverage to jump up. I landed a little hard on the branch, my chest hitting it. Elwin waited for me standing on the branch. I pulled myself up and sat.

“Stand,” he said. “Stand! Stand!”

Slowly I stood, first a little unsure of my balance, before my body naturally settled in movement that made sure I was balanced.

Elwin pushed his feet down and the branch dropped. My heart jumped to my throat and my entire life flashed before my eyes, it ended with me hitting the ground face first. But my body knew how to lean and it shifted in ways that made sure I didn’t fall.

Elwin let out a loud bout of laughter then jumped to another branch, landed silently and turned.

“Come on!”

I followed.

***

“How was it?” Mr Calvert asked.

“It was fun,” I said. “But I could tell he was training me. We ran through trees and at one point he wanted to play fight with our sticks. We did for a little while, when my alarm rang.”

“I can see you’re attached to that stick,” he said. “Are you thinking about going back?”

“A part of me wants to,” I said. I looked at the bruise I had at the back of my hand where the Headmaster had hit me with what I’d learned was a sjambock. I didn’t want that to ever happen again. “I could be better at fighting with my stick. But I’m worried about what that’ll mean.” I looked at him. “Do you have any advice?”

“I’d say go ahead,” he said. “Train with him. You’ll get stronger even if he’s driving you towards a certain end. There are a _lot_ of Practitioners who don’t know the value of being able to fight, and when their monsters are turned back at them, more than a few find themselves defeated.”

“How do I get back?” I asked. “I don’t think I can bike all the way up here?”

“Find yourself a faerie ring,” he said, “tell it who you want to visit then step through.”

“Why would I have to use a faerie ring to go to elves?” I asked.

“Because the faerie are tricksters,” he said sagely. We arrived in front of my house where Chompers was already waiting for us. “The Bogeyman?” he said. I nodded. “Do you need my help?”

“I might,” I said. “But not yet.”

Mr Calvert nodded. “Feel free to call me if you do,” he said. I got out of the car. “Expect the money from the items in two days.” I nodded and started to walk away. “And Taylor,” he said. I stopped. “Stay out of the Docks for the time being. There are skirmishes going on and I don’t want you to be caught in the middle of them.”

“I understand. Come on,” I said to Chompers. I pasted on a symbol to turn away attention as we got into the house, and I made sure that Dad couldn’t wasn’t awake enough to be a problem.

The next day I didn’t go to school. There was a lot to do and I wanted to get started. I _would_ go to school, because I’d been doing okay and I didn’t want that progress to be undone, but I could pick and choose the days I needed to go and catch up.

I spent most of the morning trying to make a diagram that would serve my purposes. I wanted something that would break connections and I wanted to reinforce that with being harder to see in the form of a darkness generating rune or maybe a warded day away.

It took time of experimenting before I found what I wanted, something that I wanted. It was comprised of four circles. One at the centre with the connection symbol of two diamonds intertwined, with three warding lines growing out of the circle. I’d learned about the connection rune first from the diagram Victoria had used on to make the call with the Boston Wards, then seen it used by Dennis as a way to make attention slip away from him.

The other three circles, within which were the warded day runes, were laid so they formed a downward pointed triangle, with lines connecting them large enough to fit text. I wrote the words ‘reinforce break’ within so they served to augment the power of the connection breaking rune at the centre. I then connected the outward circles in a massive, double bordered, circle and within that I put the words ‘keep day out’. My handwriting was such that the phrase fit in twice within each section of the double bordered lines.

I would need a power source to make sure this complicated a diagram worked, because I didn’t want to use personal power, _especially_ when something close to a plan was starting to form. The idea came to me pretty quickly. I _still_ hadn’t worked with the bone yet, I hadn’t made it into chalk, but there was _other_ power I could work with. But that power needed me to have a courage.

Two hours passed, time I used to buy some supplies that were missing, fill up stationary stock and some new supplies. I went to a hipster stationary place and bought some ink that wasn’t in pens which seemed to be a lot more expensive than it needed to be.

When I got back home, I took a bowl and some bits of wood. I put the Alabaster head of the bits of wood so it was above the bowl. I started to _cut_ and blood poured out, a _lot_ of blood.

It was disgusting, and I had to stop a few times, but I pushed myself to continue until I’d removed the patch of hair that had messed with the connections I could see from the head.

There were other parts to be removed, parts that might be _worse,_ but it made it a little easier to imagine all the power I was getting from all the parts I was taking. Either Chompers had used them from innocents, which sucked to think about, or from monsters he hoped would get me if I looked or stumbled in their way. Either way, there was power, even if I wasn’t sure what that power meant and how it could manifest.

I still remembered how Stinkie, a wind spirit, had been able to disrupt connections, but how she’d done it by imparting some disgust that made people move away from me. I wondered if there was something similar to that in how I used other forms of power, if they had functions they were specialised towards.

Bogeymen were creatures of fear, would their connection disruption have something to do with that fear? Maybe use a sense of fear to keep people from looking towards me?

But what would it mean to use Alabaster blood as a power source?

I still didn’t know enough about what an Alabaster was. I knew they were guardian spirits, and that they had access to their own world where they drew in people in desperate need. But what magic did that impart?

The thoughts were a distraction, though, a way to procrastinate like I had when I’d gone shopping because I was a lot more scared of what I was going to do. There were still the teeth I had to pull out, the tongue I had to cut off and an eye I had to scoop out.

 _Fuck you so much, Chompers,_ I thought as I went upstairs and got some pliers. After a few minutes of starting and stop, I managed to get one tooth, squeezed it and started to _pull._

None of the teeth belonged to the Alabaster in the end.

Nor did the tongue, which I had to cut off at the base because I could see the point where it attached. But I just couldn’t. I’d already done a lot of gruesome stuff and I felt so _drained._ The tongue felt like too much, too soon.

I checked on the connections on the Alabaster, there were probably less than a hundred now, which meant I was going on the right track. It felt like enough for one day, so I collected all the teeth, bits of hair and blood that I’d pulled out and put them in one corner and put up a circle that was hard to see through so Chompers didn’t know about my progress.

I didn’t think it would work, but tonight I was going to follow Chompers. He was using his freedom for something, and sometimes he used it to get into the Alabaster’s domain. I hoped that if I was quiet enough and kept trailing him, that I would catch him and bust down the door.

The problem was what I would do _then._

I still didn’t know a lot about the Alabaster, their magic and what they could do. I didn’t know how they fought or how to pull off a binding if they came against me. I didn’t enough know how to bust down the door in the first place.

There was just a lot of stuff to do _around_ the case in the first place and I hadn’t, which frustrated me a little because right now it felt like I was in a little over my head.

 _If you don’t know enough,_ a part of me thought, _you can learn from others._

Everything came at a price. Sometimes it was obvious, other times it wasn’t. I was a little scared of prices that weren’t obvious because I wouldn’t be able to predict abstract prices and the payment thereof. But I could make it so the abstract became concrete. I could ask for knowledge and offer something in turn. But what?

I mentally recited everything I had. It would have made me much happier to have still had the items I’d gotten from Chompers to trade, but I’d already given them to Mr Calvert and there was no use crying over spilt milk. But maybe I could get something else from him, and I could use that as an excuse to give Chompers enough freedom that I could trail him through the night.

The rest of the day I spent doing my preparations, filling my backpack with stuff I might need as I followed Chompers. Paper with runes that needed only s line before they were complete, a chain and lighter, a knife and a stake, a flashlight that I’d taped with an incomplete day rune with radiating lines out of it so I could use it as a device to blind.

I did my ritual in the evening and then painted my nails. I checked with the sight and the look of claws for nails was slowly getting stronger, without the sight the shape of my nails had changed so that they were sharper.

“Similar deal like last night,” I said to Chompers that night, “and I get the tongue.”

“It feels like you’re trying to drain me of my gifts,” he said.

“Does it?” I said.

“It does.”

I shrugged. “Do you want to make the deal or not?” I asked. “You could choose not to take it.”

“I accept the deal,” he said. He threw up the tongue which looked cancer ridden and a little disgusting.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay,” he said. He turned and left.

I waited until I couldn’t see him anymore before I quickly ran into the living room, shrugged on my backpack and put on my cloak. I had my stick and I put it in a loop in my belt, and I had my chain wound around my arm, not heated though I had the lighter ready in case I ran across a goblin.

My hand closed around the tongue and glanced at the webs that stretched from it. The strongest was mine, though the second was Chompers, I was sure. I didn’t use it to look at him, that would give up the game too quickly, but I used it to get a sense of where Chompers was.

Maybe it was because of my karma, but the direction Chompers was moving pointed towards the Docks, the same ones that Mr Calvert had warned me against. But if that was where the Alabaster probably was, then I couldn’t sit by and do nothing.

With a shaky breath, I started after Chompers at a sedate jog.


	15. Chapter 15

Chompers wasn’t a fast runner but he had good stamina.

What helped _me_ was that I could essentially trespass where he seemed to move around houses. I took the little exercise as training akin to what Elwin had taught me. I jumped up on picket fences, balanced on them and run a little before I hopped off and kept booking it.

Chompers stayed half a block ahead of me but that was by design. This was strictly an _info_ gathering mission and I didn’t want to let on that I was trailing him. Which meant I kept sight of the web that stretched from the tongue to him, and, no matter the impulse, I didn’t move through it to see what he was doing.

In the better neighbourhoods, there wasn’t a lot of activity, but as I got closer to the Docks things shifted. There were a lot of roving webs _waiting_ for connection and this made it harder to move through the mess. Thankfully between my diagram and my sight, I kept track of it all, but it was harder to keep up with Chompers who had a better time moving through the morass.

The Docks were an area that had a lot of old warehouses. Some had been refurbished into apartment buildings, but a _lot_ of them weren’t. Instead they’d been boarded up, their doors, if they had any, chained shut. It was a sharp contrast, because one block could be all well and bright against my sight, while another could be entirely dark.

I started to run into graffiti, some of which seemed fresh. The eighty-eight from the Nazis, the colours of the ABB and sometimes crude imagines made of blood and shit that made me think of goblins. Which made some sense because there was supposed to be a goblin warren in the Docks, not that I knew what that was.

I squeezed the tongue and the web flared. Chompers was two blocks away in the direction of the Boat Graveyard. I started in a run that took me through empty streets—the sidewalk with cracks and potholes running through them—and tight alleys.

 _Gotta start working on a way to see in the dark,_ I thought as I spotted too late that there was a pothole filled with water blocking me from the other side of the alley.

With a breath, I pushed forward, then jumped towards a wall. The cloak and its magic gave me enough traction that I ran across the wall.

A web flared beneath me. I felt a momentarily panic before I thought to _jump._ I shot forward while a thin arm, its skin inky dark, shot out of the water and scratched at the underside of my feet. It missed from grabbing me. I landed with a bit of a stumble, my stick already pulled out in case of attack.

The Other started to rise, an inky black _thing_ with bright red eyes. It moved slowly, pulling its long, thin mass out of the puddle without disturbing its surface. It stood seven feet tall, its weight spread on all fours.

“I don’t want a fight,” I said, and I really didn’t because I didn’t know what this Other was or how to fight it.

The Other didn’t say anything, but through its web I knew it would move. An arm swiped forward and I jumped back, landed and spun around. It was better to run than to fight, and I darted away, only keeping track of it through the sight. It followed, long arms and legs silent as they scrambled towards me. It wasn’t fast, but it had a long stride and I could feel it get near.

I got out of the alley and the Other stopped instead of following.

_Is that because it_ _’s bound to the alley or is it something else?_

I couldn’t consider it for long. My heartbeat fast against my chest and I felt like I had energy for days. I ran and found a place I could stop. I shrugged off my coat and checked the line I’d drawn, the central circle with the connection breaker had disappeared while the surrounding diagram was still intact.

I’d thought something like that might happened and come prepared. I reached into my backpack and pulled out a compass and a pen. Normally pens were too thick to get into the pencil hole of a compass, but I’d forced it so many times that my pen now slid through. I drew the circle again, then the interconnected diamonds, then the breaks.

I used the tongue as a power source. It was supposed to be able to lie and I _hoped_ there would be a bit of deceit into how the spirits chose to reflect the breaking of the connection. I put on my coat and checked on Chompers again, four blocks away.

My pace was a jog as I raced after him.

 _This would have been so much easier if I_ _’d brought Amber,_ a passing thought flicked through my head, but I didn’t like the thought. Amber’s existence was something I’d been thinking about on and off, especially as I’d been collating my notes.

Amber was a spirit that was mushed together bits of fear, alertness and apprehension. _I_ was the reason they were like that, because I’d wanted to use them for my own ends. Amber’s entire being was anxiety, but they didn’t like those feelings. They didn’t like being in situations where they had to be around Chompers who was always trying to scare them, or being _around_ fear and those who perpetuated it.

Me putting them in those situations was immoral.

I didn’t think it was feasible that I could just not use them like that. Their specific abilities were an asset that might have helped me avoid the Long Thing in the first place. But I wanted to give them a night where they weren’t a part of _this._

I spotted a trio of goblins, more animal than human, as they ran after another Other. I kept my distance, keeping to darkness. They passed past me without ever turning in my direction.

I continued forward, paying attention to webs around me, then _stopped_ as a series of gunshots filled the air.

My breaths came hard from the run, but my heart pounded because of _guns._ It seemed stupid that I would be afraid of them, especially after I’d almost been killed by wolves, the Headmaster and the Teacher who’d wanted to come at me, or the Long Thing and I could still go forward.

An answer of gunfire started and there was a scream there.

 _I have to do something, right?_ I thought. _Someone_ _’s getting shot._

But there was supposed to be something going on between the ABB and E88, and so this could be _that._

_But what if it isn_ _’t._

“Fuck,” I muttered and I started to run in the direction. I ran half a block and heard more gunshots. I didn’t want to get too close and I chose instead to use a fire escape to get up to get a bird’s eyes view. I made sure that darkness wrapped around me so I couldn’t be seen.

I found the disturbance, eleven people in all, seven of them white and four Asian. The white people were all men, they had guns and they hid behind a trashcan, peaking at times to fire. Two of the four were men who returned fire, one was a woman who’d been shot, and the last _looked_ like a woman, but there was something about her that didn’t seem to fit. Maybe it was the way she stood and looked too calm, even as probably her friend bled out to death.

 _This is a gang thing,_ I thought. _I can_ _’t get involved._

I swallowed and started to turn when I spotted something. It was a figure dressed in black, wrapped in a black cloak and wearing a carved mask. I saw by their hair that they were a woman, and gloveless hands that they were black.

They kept to the darkness as they ran, deathly silent and with a grace that reminded me of Stinkie. At the foot of the woman was a fox that I knew, _Sophia_ _’s_ fox.

Sophia and her fox split off. The former keeping behind the men while the latter ran off towards an adjoining alley. The fox _screamed_ and all webs grew taut in its direction. Sophia used that to catch the men unawares. She threw something, a piece of paper, and the guns were wrenched out of hands and drawn towards the piece of paper. She jumped and glided forward, two knives flashed out and she cut two throats.

She landed in a roll.

The men turned around. Sophia darted forward and slashed at the closest throat. Knives came out and up. Sophia stepped back into a patch of darkness.

Her fox screamed once more and all three of the men started and looked towards the fox. Sophia stepped out near her the piece of paper with the gun and splashed some of the blood on her knife. The knives from the men were pulled out of their grasp. They twisted around to look at Sophia but she was already gone, having slipped into darkness. She came out behind them and slashed a throat.

Her fox appeared almost from nowhere and jumped at a face. The man’s scream cut through the air, then it was gargled as the fox started to get into his mouth and push itself down the man’s throat.

Sophia killed another man, leaving only the one her fox had gotten inside of.

 _What did I just see?_ I thought, my mouth dry and eyes wide. _Sophia_ _’s a killer._

I turned to the ABB members to see what they were up to. They’d seen the attack and moved away, pulling away the woman who’d been shot. The only one they’d left behind was the strange looking woman.

“I don’t give a fuck about you right now,” Sophia said. “Don’t come for me and I won’t have to defend myself from you.”

The woman said something in maybe Japanese. Sophia looked at the fox and it translated the words too softly for me to hear.

“I’ve heard what they say about Kenta and Lung,” she muttered. “We both don’t want these fuckers to get more traction, but I’m not willing to work with him for that shit.”

The woman nodded and left.

Sophia pulled off a backpack and pulled out a glass cannister filled with salt. She started to pour the salt in a large circle around all the men she’d killed. Her fox, still possessing someone, stayed out of the circle.

Sophia stepped out and started to do more work around the central circle with chalk. It was complicated and hard to see from afar, but I could see that blood was starting to spread and in some parts it had hit the lines of salt and been sucked within.

“I call forth the echoes of the fucking Nazis,” she said. “I call forth the Nazis fuckers who made the world shittier by existing. I call them forth and call them to this place. I call them in memory and spirit and _being._ I call their tainted selves forth so that they might _serve._ They spent their lives fucking over people like me, people different to them, making sure their lives were shit. They earned their bad karma for themselves, of their own volition and uncoerced. Death strips some of that debt away, but it isn’t enough to wash that shit away. In lieu of that shit being heaped on people that have no idea what the fuck’s going on, I call them forth to fix it. Now _come!_ _”_

There was a flash of light and as it faded a man, white, with features that seemed _ordinary_ appeared.

“What? What is this?” the ghost said. I hadn’t meant a lot of ghosts, but I knew they were supposed to stutter. This one didn’t, it seemed, not a person, but a collection of people. “What’s going on?”

“I bind you, Nazi Fuck,” said Sophia. “I bind you to the world you and your kind ruined. I keep you from finding the peace of death so that you can _fix_ what you fucked over. I bind you to servitude, not to me, but to those you ruined. I bind you to this half-life and compel you to linger, forever kept from peace, until the last life you _marred_ is heal and replenished.”

Chains appeared, first made of light, before they congealed into something harder, _heavy._ Chains around the next that kept the ghost’s neck down, around the arms that kept them together, around legs so they shambled instead of walk.

Sophia broke the lines of her diagram with a rub of her foot.

“No fuck off and fix the shit you broke.”

The ghost lingered for a second, flickered, then disappeared.

“Well, well,” Sophia whirled around and looked up. There were three people on a rooftop, three _Others,_ and they looked prepared for battle. “We finally caught up to you, haven’t we?”

***

The first was a wolf adorned by weapons. I didn’t look too deeply, afraid they might be able to look back, but there might have been skin beneath it all. As it was, all I saw was a wolf made of knives, big and small, thin and thick; needles, the sewing kind and syringe needles that might have fluids beneath them; and hooks beg and small, sharp and blunted. He had three tails, made out of long chains each of which ended in spearheads.

He was largely silver, though there were bits of rust in the weaponry and parts I was sure was blood. As if alive, each of the knives, blades, needles and hooks moved like they were hairs, large knives framed as ears twitching as the wolf turned to and fro.

_Hookwolf._

To his left was a woman, black as night with long wings that had with tips, legs that ended in long talons, and an expressionless white mask that shone in the darkness. She sat in a squat, her wings left drooping so they brushed against the wall of the building she and the others used as ledges.

_Cricket._

To Hookwolf’s right was a man that looked normal compared to his compatriots, he wore only jeans, wore no shoes and his blonde hair seemed caught in a breeze I couldn’t feel. With a bit of the sight, he looked like he wasn’t complete, as though portions of him evaporated off his bulk.

_Stormtiger._

I knew the trio from Lisa’s Dramatis Personae. They were E88 Nazis. Not Practitioners, none of the three had awakened, but all three had drunk so much power from Others that they were now more Other than human. Lisa’s nose had also spoken of a fight club thing, but it hadn’t gone in detail.

Sophia had just killed people, but I didn’t think things would end too well for her with these guys. She must have though the same thing because she turned and bolted while the fox ran for the weapons on the ground.

Cricket spread her wings as she jumped forward. She dove, her speed controlled as she swooped down. Sophia’s fox, still possessing a person, whirled around, gun in hand, and fired three times. Cricket flapped her wings and changed direction all at once. Then she _screamed_ and the sound, like nails on a chalkboard, cut through the air.

I instantly covered my ears and went low, but even then, the sound was _cloying._ I pulled myself up in time to see as the fox-man was pulled up into the air. I spotted the form of the fox as it fell out of the man’s mouth.

Sophia…I couldn’t see her.

“Sophia Hess,” I said and the web flared to quickly dull. But I knew the direction she was moving.

Cricket dropped the man with Hookwolf and Stormtiger, then flapped her wings to get height. Hookwolf said something to Stormtiger, then the wolf-man jumped down to land with the sound of a truck on the ground. Hookwolf was the size of horse and with more mass, but he took off as fast as a horse if not faster.

 _I have to help her,_ I thought. _Even with the shit she just did._

I made sure Cricket wasn’t close and that Stormtiger wasn’t face my way before I started to move. I started to run, following the direction Sophia’s web had gone. I _could_ have first gone down to the ground, but in a moment of bravery I ran and jumped across rooftops onto a sloped roof.

My feet found traction and I pushed forward.

“Sophia Hess,” I whispered and the web flared. I empowered it and _looked._ I saw her as she ran into a warehouse. I felt as she looked back and she saw me.

She didn’t break the connection between us.

Another bout of bravery hit me and I jumped over to a lower building. I landed _hard,_ the impact jolting my still healing leg, but I pushed past it. I found the roof access and started to climb down where I found Sophia waiting for me, wearing a dark metal mask.

She rode up the mask.

“Hebert,” she said, a hint of confusion in her voice.

“Sophia,” I said. “I’m here to help you.”

“Who the fuck says I need your help?”

“Cricket’s in the air and Hookwolf’s chasing,” I said, ignoring both her words and the feeling that Sophia was still Sophia, and that she’d _killed_ people.

“He’s got a good nose,” Sophia muttered. “Even with my fox leading him away, he’ll circle back.”

“I might have a way to get us away,” I said. “But we’d have to walk long enough for us to get bored.”

She gave me a long look before she nodded. “Keep up,” she said and she started to run. Sophia, now that I was closer and could look with the sight, had used wind spirits to move around. When she jumped, she moved further because she was carried forward, darkness seemed to draw into her in the same way it did for my cloak.

It made me feel uncomfortable, to be so similar to Sophia.

_Sophia the killer._

_Killer of Nazis,_ I thought. _People who hurt others. She did it so they could right wrongs._

_But she still killed people._

We crossed the inside of the warehouse and reached a window that wasn’t boarded up. Sophia peeked and then jumped through. I followed. We got into an alley and booked it down towards the main road.

“Fuck,” said Sophia and she looked up. I did the same and the web snapped into place. A large form, wings spread and talons stretched, swooped down.

Sophia and I jumped to either side. Cricket missed, flapped twice to get distance and height. Sophia reached into her side and pulled out something I couldn’t see. “Ears,” she ordered as she foisted them over.

Earplugs. I didn’t hesitate.

Not a second later Cricket turned and _screamed._

I felt the sound reverberate through my body but it wasn’t debilitating. Sophia bolted and I followed. We ran for a building because we couldn’t run into the open street with Cricket overhead. She jumped through and I followed after her, landing with less grace.

Cricket didn’t follow us inside the warehouse, but I saw from the web she was circling around.

“We won’t be able to get out,” said Sophia.

An idea flashed and I reached into my backpack. “Flashlight with a day rune to blind,” I said.

Sophia nodded. “We’re going into the sewers,” she said. “Hookwolf might follow us in there, but it’s better than being up here.”

“Sure,” I said. I closed off the lines and didn’t empower the rune. We ran outside and darted into the main round. The web snapped into place and I whirled around. I flicked on the flashlight and the light was _blinding._

It caught Cricket head on and she screeched.

She flapped her to get distance but clipped the side of a building, tumbled and fell _hard._ Something big galloped in the distance, too close. _Hookwolf._

“Fuck,” said Sophia. She reached into her side and pulled out over a dozen pieces of paper. “Attack her and anyone that tries to help her.”

She threw and small things, most the size of a fist with some bigger, things with too big heads and mismatched teeth, all with screws or spanners or improvised weapons, ran forward as an army.

“Go!” Sophia said to me.

We ran and reached a manhole cover. The thing was _heavy_ but we helped each other and jumped in. Sophia pulled out another piece of paper and pasted it on the side of the manhole entrance before we started to move.

We ran at a sedate jog, but I could feel that all the running would _hurt_ tomorrow.

“Tell me when you’re bored,” I said.

We ran for almost an hour, lost in sewers of Brockton Bay. I got bored at some point as the fear of being chased by Nazis started to subside.

“I’m bored,” said Sophia a few minutes later.

“We wish to walk through a path that’ll titillate the mind!” I said and my voice echoed in the narrow space. To the left I spotted an entryway. I got in and Sophia followed.

The path was very thin and dark, but I had my flashlight. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but from something called the _Garden Route,_ I’d been expecting more plants. Instead it was just another sewer tract, that had a lot of junk.

We spotted a shoe and Sophia said it was a limited-edition sneaker, but the shoe was damaged. Along the wall we spotted graffiti that wasn’t in any real style. I saw a mouth that stood on two legs and carried around a sack.

“Ratoncito Perez,” said Sophia. “It’s a Spanish American Other like the tooth fairy.”

“Cool,” I said.

“How do you know about this place?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Something I’ve been working on with the Wards and New Wave,” I said. “Something we found out.”

She nodded.

We kept trudging.

“You killed people,” I said finally.

“People who’ve done worse,” she said.

“You can’t—”

“Stop, Hebert,” she said, “before you lie. If you were going to say I can’t know that. I know. Those guys deserved to die. Them and people like them.”

“There are laws,” I said.

She snorted. “Must be nice to think that they do shit for people like me,” she muttered. “I would have thought you’d know how screwed up the system can be.”

I frowned, feeling a bout of anger. “You mean what you and Emma did to me,” I muttered, my hands clenched into fists. I spotted a gold coin and stopped, on one side was a head on the other was a tail. When I looked at it with the sight it was bright with magic. I pocketed it.

“Yeah,” she said. “Emma’s on top of the…what do you call it, social hierarchy, and she didn’t get shit for what she did. The teachers promised to look out for it, I’m sure, but did they? At the end, I’m the one who got her to stop.”

“You’re the one who got her to—”

“Stop,” she said, cutting me off. It left me angrier. “Stop before you lie. Check your emotions, Hebert.”

I swallowed, counted to ten as I controlled my breaths. I glanced at her to see if she was smug but I couldn’t read her expression, at some point she’d pulled her mask back down.

“Police aren’t doing shit,” she said. “They’re just as dirty. You’ve never been to the meetings, have you? You don’t see how the Spirit in Blue is buddy-buddy with the Anders family, head Nazis. E88 might be running the streets, but the Anders family and the Man in Blue hit us where it fucking hurts. Blame me if you want to, taking justice into my own hands, but I’m not going to fucking wait for a system that’s screwed up to fix itself. That’s something you should have learned, Hebert.”

We hit a dead end, above us was a manhole. We pushed it open and stepped out in my neighbourhood.

“You spared me from a lot of shit, Hebert,” she said.

“Is that you saying thank you?” she said.

She snorted, started to leave and stopped as we spotted a kid. She reached for a knife but I stopped her.

“Chompers,” I said. “I hope you’re not going to start trouble.”

“I’m done causing trouble for the night,” he said. “You stink.”

“I had a trip,” I said.

“Look at you,” said Sophia. “See you at school, Hebert, and bring protection. The Nazis are fighting against the ABB and they might not follow up on tonight, but Tammi knows I have a fox spirit and she might start shit.”

I took a breath, held it, but I nodded.

Sophia took off in a jog.

I really didn’t like her. Even with what she’d said the things she’d done still felt wrong. But…I felt a little guilty. Most of this had stemmed from decisions I’d made. I’d been the one to get involved with Skidmark, which had led to new territory being opened up and now a war being the ABB and Merchants.

Then I’d just checked out. I didn’t watch the news and I hadn’t known about the gang war until I’d been told about it. I was white and not affiliated with E88 which meant I didn’t get any shit from the gang kids at school. I could effectively ignore it all.

But Sophia couldn’t. Other kids that were anything but white and straight, couldn’t.

To them, this gang war meant a whole lot more because it meant the Nazis got more ground.

I’d been physically tired most of the night but it felt like all my emotional energy was suddenly sapped away.

 _Others and the world of magic let_ _’s a lot of shit happen,_ I thought. _But I can_ _’t forget about the other side of the coin. The non-practitioner world also has its shit and that shit is worth seeing, internalising and trying to fix too._

I wasn’t sure if Sophia’s way of going about it was the right way to do it, but I hadn’t even thought about it for a second which felt like I didn’t have much ground to stand on.

I got home, took off my clothes and put them in a circle, then drew ‘T’ shapes within the circle _hoping_ all the bad smells would stay within. The moment I was in bed I conked out, and a second later my alarm rang so I could go on my morning jog.

A part of me wanted to sleep in, but I couldn’t. Even with how tired I was, last night had shown me how important being able to jog for long periods of time was.

I got up and went on my morning jog.


	16. Chapter 16

With my eyes open I could _see_.

There was an atmosphere of strife between the students of Winslow. The lines between the white and Asian kids were starker, there was a general sense of fear from the more quiet kids of colour, and it seemed like overall, people without power had their heads down.

Amber was in my earring and they whispered advice of which kids to stay away from. Amber had a good sense of the people who were dangerous, which I confirmed with my sight to see blood on most of those people’s hands. I also had Jonah with me, aware that I hadn’t empowered him and I still didn’t know what he could do.

I had my chain in my backpack as well as a knife, which was terrifying all on its own because if _I_ could get weapons into the building, then what about the other kids? There were a few pieces of paper with runes waiting to be filled out, and I had a few connection breaker runes prepared so I could paste them on my clothes if I needed to do it quickly.

In the abstract I was aware of Tammi the Nazi, but I didn’t see her which brought with it relief. I had a few classes with Sophia and it was odd to see how _normal_ she was after I’d seen her kill people. It made it seem like the whole killing thing was something she usually did and I wasn’t sure how to feel like that.

 _But isn_ _’t what she’s doing the logical extension of what you did with Johnathan?_ the thought came to me. It felt so long ago, now, but I’d caused Johnathan to get dysentery with Stinkie as retribution for all the shit he’d caused.

Sophia was doing that except… _more._

But she was doing _more_ and that felt like the difference. For all I’d done, Johnathan was still alive.

 _And things aren_ _’t exactly fixed, are they? It’s just that_ he’s _no longer at the top._

A fight broke out and the end of the day. Not big, no blood that I could see, but there was a fight and it was between racial lines.

I gave myself a few minutes to centre myself when I got home as my mind thought to extrapolate all the shit that might be happening in the city. I couldn’t do anything about it. I didn’t have the power to do anything about it, and I had to focus on the things that I _could_ do.

Chompers first and foremost.

I used that as the push I needed to get started on working on the Alabaster head again. First there were my rituals to go through, but after they were done, I went through the disgusting task of cutting off the Alabaster head’s eyelids, then getting a spoon to scoop out the eye. I threw up at the last because the eye was _connected_ to the head and after scooping it out, I had to cut the long wiry thing that connected the eye to the brain.

“I fucking hate you so much Chompers,” I muttered and I meant it.

I took a breath, put away the bits of the head I’d cut away, then stored them in their own circles. I put everything back in their circles, went upstairs for a long shower and then started on some of my homework and some projects. I was aware of how close the school year was to ending and a part of me was looking forward to it so I could get more free time to deal with the practice.

Dad came back with pizza and he told me about work.

“We’ve got fights breaking out more often,” he said. “Which means I have more work to deal with, disciplinary hearings that I have to mediate.”

“I thought you were just the head of hiring,” I said.

“That’s my title, yeah,” he said, “but budget cuts mean I’m doing a _lot_ more than I get paid for.” He shrugged. “What can you do about it?”

“Something,” I said.

Dad smiled. “We all know _something_ has to be done,” he said. “But what? And how? Most of the people who could do something about it have other problems or they’ve got their heads up their asses.” Dad looked sheepish. “Sorry.”

I shrugged. “You know I’m not a child, right? I hear worse at school?”

“Don’t remind me,” he said with a sigh. “The thought of my little girl growing up is terrifying.”

“What would you do?” I asked. “If you could?”

“Ideal world where I had the money?” he said. I nodded. “Find a way to clean up the Boat Graveyard, maybe that could lead to the docks opening back up, maybe re-establishing the shipping industry. But that’s unlikely. I think what would help would be the ferry. There are a lot of people in the Lower Bay, but jobs are Downtown. The buses in the city are shit which means a lot of people lose jobs or they have to get loans for cars and that’s its own mess. Open up the ferry, better movement through the city and it’s cheaper. It’s not everything but it’s a start.

“I’ve talked to Mayor Christner about it,” he continued. “Written up reports with projections and everything. But none of them have gotten through. There’s always budget stuff that aren’t lining up or going through. But you see how much money is being spent on the Boardwalk and you start to see where the mayor’s priorities are.”

“Maybe you could run for mayor,” I said with a shrug.

“I’m not a politician,” he said. “You know that stubborn thing you have?”

“I’m stubborn?”

“Stubborn, headstrong,” he said, all with pride. “Those are things you get from me and your mom.” He smiled, it was sombre. “Doubly so for you. I see it in you sometimes. It was worse when you were a kid. Or maybe not worse, but…different. You were loud about it when you were a kid, almost _petulant._ But now…” he sighed, his smile was gone, “now you’re quiet mostly.”

I didn’t say anything.

_Mom died and things changed. Then Emma changed and she pushed me down. I couldn_ _’t have friends, couldn’t talk to anyone, couldn’t share secrets with anyone, couldn’t laugh without worrying it would come to bite me in the ass._

_I couldn_ _’t talk to you because…I still don’t know._

Dad sighed. “How’s school?” he said. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m about to repay you for the bike,” I said.

“Oh?” said Dad. “You’ve found someone to tutor?”

“I taught a girl something that’s useful,” I said. “At least to me it’s useful, no idea if she’s going to use it.”

“Your mom had the same problem when she was teaching,” he said. “You can’t really know if people will use what you give them, you just have to try, be there when they need help.”

I nodded.

“You don’t have to rush paying it back,” said Dad. “Two more years of studying, and your bike wasn’t too expensive.”

“I made a promise,” I said. “I’ve gotta keep it.”

“The mark of a good person,” said Dad.

_Not as simple as you think._

He stood. “Gonna go upstairs and maybe work while in bed,” he said. “Good night.”

“You too,” I said.

I went upstairs to finish off some work before I went to free Chompers.

“Are you here to ask for another empowered object?” he said.

“Not tonight,” I said.

I was still sore from all the running last night and I didn’t to go to the Docks when there was the chance of running across the Nazis again. More than anything, I didn’t want to bunch my info gathering missions too closely together. I didn’t think Chompers knew I’d been trailing him and I didn’t want him to find out, better that I had something close to an alibi so he wouldn’t ask questions.

“I’m looking for a faerie ring,” I said. “Do you know where one is in the city?”

“I assume you’ll want the closest one?” he said. I nodded. “There’s one in the park close to here,” he said. “Further in, beyond the basketball court. It’s centred by a tall tree, on its ground there’s only grass around which are flowers.”

“I’d like you to lead me there,” I said. “I’m willing to give you that as price for more freedom.”

“You must be confident you’ll catch me with all the freedom you’re giving me,” he said.

 _I_ _’m not,_ I said. _But I_ _’m hoping you won’t see the obvious thing, that I’m using this all as a trap so you don’t find out what I’m trying to do._

“I accept the deal,” he said.

Fifteen minutes before he was free, we left the house and went into the park. Chompers lead me to the faerie ring, I spotted the bedraggled spirit of the park as we walked. This was the boon of the Garden Route, now every time I travelled, I’d see one interesting thing.

On my trip to school I’d seen a man dressed like a punk with a pink Mohawk, and on my way back I’d seen an owl flying through the sky which I found odd because I thought they were supposed to be nocturnal _._ I couldn’t help but wonder how more interesting the world would be the more I used the Path, a Path I’d shown Sophia how to use. I made a mental note to tell her at school tomorrow about the boon and what it could mean.

We reached the faerie ring.

“I’ve completed my duty,” he said. “I’ll see you if I return.”

_“If?”_

“I could be bound,” he said. “There’s a lot more activity going on in Brockton Bay.”

 _And of course you_ _’re thriving in that,_ I thought.

Thankfully, because he was _free_ for that time, he couldn’t be sent against his ‘master’. And double thankfully, he was bound by contract to return less he be forsworn. Which gave him all the incentive to make sure he wasn’t caught and bound.

“I wish to visit the elf, Elwin,” I said.

I stepped into the faerie ring, noticed a hole at the base of the tree at the centre. It was big enough for me to get in. I did and travelled through the tunnel. I came out on the other side to find Elwin already waiting for him, a stick with a bulbous end in-hand.

“En Garde!” he said.

***

“Young Ms Hebert,” said a low, breathy voice. There was only one ‘s’ in the sentence but it was _felt_ with how the voice hissed.

Mr Calvert had been parked at the curb when I’d arrived from home—I’d seen a man with ring that shone bright against the sight on my way to school, and a shoe like the one I’d seen on the Garden Route on my way back. At his neck was a snake that peeked out, it had stripes, black against white, small and thin, with a small head.

“Silas,” I said. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“These are busy times,” the snake said.

“They are,” said Mr Calvert. He smiled. “You went to the Docks.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t,” I said.

Mr Calvert hummed. “I hope you know now why I told you not to go in the first place?” he said.

I frowned. “How do you know I was there?” I asked. “Are you spying on me?”

“Word reached me,” he said.

“Because you have people in E88?” I said.

He smiled. Not an answer. The window to his car was open. He pulled out an envelope and handed it over. I opened it to see money, more than we’d agreed for the magical items I’d given him. It made shivers run up my spine because I didn’t _trust_ it. I didn’t trust that there wasn’t anything he was getting from this.

“This is more than I asked for,” I said. Enough money that I could pay Dad back for the bike and still have some money left over.

“Yes,” he said. “But you’re dealing with a Bogeyman. _How and why,_ I’m not sure, but I’ve had people do readings to protect myself and I know you’ll need support.”

“Is this a trap?” I asked. “Is there something I’m not seeing?”

“I don’t know what you’re seeing,” he said, “so I can’t tell you what you’re not.” I frowned and Mr Calvert chuckled. “I don’t intend for this to be a trap, but nonetheless one exists. Karmic imbalance is a tool, subtle, and not one you should put much stock in, though it’s no less important. By giving you something without a price, there is an imbalance, everything has a price, some may say they’re foregoing a price but the spirits don’t like imbalance and they want the debt to be repaid no less.”

“So by giving me more money that you owe me, the spirits see me as owing you?”

He nodded. “And in turn,” he said, “if I were to ask for a favour, small perhaps, and you were to refuse, the spirits would think you were being unfair for all the gifts I gave you.”

The thought was terrifying to think about, especially when I already had a karmic debt because of my great-great-grandfather or something. It made me think of everything Mr Calvert had given me, directly and indirectly. The Undersiders had helped me a lot, and I had to wonder if that was all so that he could accrue a great debt that would have me unable to say no when he asked for something.

 _This is why Lisa told me to stay away from you,_ I thought. _But why are you telling me all this?_

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked. “You could have used it against me.”

“Because you’re my apprentice and the spirits wouldn’t like it if I withheld knowledge from you so that you were in my debt,” he said. “It would be akin to someone having a child sign a contract then expecting them to go through with the terms when they’re older. It’s not done.”

“So I don’t owe you anything?” I asked. “Karmically?”

“You owe me some,” he said. “But I couldn’t use it _against_ you. It might be better to work off the…debt in little ways. Give me more information so as to make things uneven, give me back some of that money I see you’re very attached to.”

“I’d really like to keep the money,” I said. “All things considered.”

“Then you’re free to do so,” he said.

Silence stretched between us.

“Was that all?” I asked.

“No,” he said, a little disappointed. “I’d thought you’d tell me a little about the project you’re working on, perhaps ask for information, but I think you won’t with everything you know about karma. Instead I’ll give you fair warning. Over the next few days I’ll be talking to your father.”

My heart started to beat faster. “Why?”

“Because I’ve bought a few buildings in the Docks area,” he said. “I’ve started to talk to construction companies that will work on refurbishments and the like, but part and parcel of their contract and the grants I’ve been given is that local labour will be employed. Your father’s worked for the Dock Workers Union for a while. He knows the locals and, small those it is, he has a voice. I want him on my side.”

I swallowed. “Is this why you Awakened me?” I asked, but I doubted it. Why put up with the risk of an apprentice when he could have just talked to Dad and left me unaware of this world. But it needed to be asked. “So you could get to Dad?”

“Not your Dad, no,” he said. “But your family has some cache in the city.”

“Were some of my family Practitioners?” I asked.

Mr Calvert frowned. “Not that I know, no,” he said. “This is a different cache, not magical in the least, though it should be clear soon.”

“Should I be scared?” I asked. “Of you, of everything you’re trying to get?”

“That’s a complicated question,” he said. “Your proximity to me might be a problem when all is revealed. But for now you shouldn’t be hurt by my machinations. If you are, it’s unlikely to be through fault of mine.”

“I feel like that’s you chiding me for being in the Docks,” I said.

“I’m not your father,” he said. “But if I were, yes, I would chide you.” Silas hissed something. “A few last things. In the span of perhaps two weeks there will be a meeting between the Practitioners and Others of the Bay. I’d like you to attend.”

“Why?” I asked.

“So you get insight on the greater goings on of the Bay,” he said.

“But that’s not all of it,” I said.

“No,” he said.

_But you_ _’re not going to explain, that, are you?_

“Come,” he said.

I followed him to the back of the car, in a create were a bunch of books.

“The youngest book is fifteen years old,” he said. “Did I assume correctly that your Bogeyman is from the Academy?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You know about the Abyss?”

“I’ve had occasion to visit a few times,” he said. He frowned and shook his head. “I can’t decide for you what you can and can’t do, but I would keep away from the Abyss if you can.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said.

“I should be off.”

“Okay,” I said. “Wait, E88, are they going to come after me?”

“I don’t know for sure,” he said. “But I doubt it.”

_One less problem._

“I…know someone that they might go after,” I said. I swallowed. “She…” I stopped. “She might need help but I don’t think she’ll ever ask for it.”

“One Miss Sophia Hess, no doubt,” said Mr Calvert.

“You know her?”

“I tried to recruit to get her to join the Undersiders and she refused,” said Mr Calvert. “Bad blood, it would seem. Ms Hess values her independence perhaps even more than you do. She’s been a Practitioner long enough that she knows how things work. If she did something concerned with E88, she’ll be prepared for the fallout.”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure quite what to feel.

I took the crate filled with books then, after I’d finished my ritual, I had Chompers stand in a corner while I reworked his binding circle. I took the youngest book and started to rip out its pages, then I put them over the inner circle that kept Chompers in. Then drew another circle over the pieces of paper. I removed one of the papers, told Chompers to go back in, then put the paper back in place and made sure that the lines connected.

Chompers or his creations hadn’t gotten out ever since that first time, but I felt more better with the binding circle as it was now. It was a positive binding, catered to him as a bogeyman of the Academy and that made me feel better.

I decided to change out the diagram that kept Dad out of the basement. Instead of the attention turning circle I used the connection breaker with the interlocked diamonds and the warding lines. I drew out the new diagram along the door frame. I made for of the circles, then connected them with lines.

Satisfied, I went to work on the Alabaster head to clear the last of the excess parts. I checked the webs stretching out from the Alabaster and found that they were all the same, nothing corrupted. There were still at least thirty, but some were weaker than others and I knew there wasn’t anything useful that could come from those.

 _Which means I have to start getting as much information as I can on Alabasters,_ I thought, which I dreaded, especially after the conversation with Mr Calvert about karma being accrued by getting more than I was giving.

But at least I had payment. There was the tongue, the eye I’d pulled out which might be magical, the teeth I’d pulled out, the eyelids and the coin I’d picked in the sewers when I’d been walking the Garden Route.

I could trade for information, but who would I ask?

I picked up my phone and called Lisa.

 _“Hey,”_ she said. _“You’re calling_ way _sooner than I expected._ _”_

“Um…yeah,” I said. “I was actually hoping for a trade. I’ve got some stuff that might be magical and I need some knowledge on Alabasters.”

Lisa whistled. _“It’s scary that you’d ask about that with everything going on,”_ she said.

“It’s not _that,_ _”_ I said. “You mind keeping this on the lowdown?”

 _“I’ll do my best, yeah,”_ she said.

“Okay,” I said with a sigh. “The project I have going on with Chompers right now involves an Alabaster.”

 _“Not the Alabaster of Brockton Bay?”_ she asked.

“No,” I said. “Not him, but I might need to learn more about him because it might help with the one I’m trying to help.”

Lisa groaned. _“That’s not as easy as you would think, girl,”_ she said. _“The Anders family keep a tight lid on how they managed to get an Alabaster in the first place, or how they bent it. The most that I know is that they’re_ supposed _to be guardian spirits of some kind._ _”_

“Can we meet?” I said. “Talk. I could share what I learned from Chompers—”

 _“I’m sorry, Taylor,”_ she said. _“But I’m swamped. We’re still working on getting the pieces to bind a Revenant in the Lower Bay, then there’s the fighting in our backyard. We have to make sure none of it is too close to us. We’re preparing just in case we have to fight someone. I don’t think I can spare the time.”_

“Okay,” I said with a little sigh. “I’ll talk to someone else.”

 _“Sorry,”_ she said. _“We’ll talk when I have more time?”_

“Sure,” I said. I called Victoria.

 _“If you’re talking about the Alabaster of Brockton Bay,_ don’t _get involved,_ _”_ said Victoria. _“It’s one of the most protected Others in their group.”_

“Do you know why?” I asked.

 _“Because of how Alabasters works,”_ she said, _“they draw in people that are vulnerable. But the Alabaster of Brockton Bay’s been turned by the Nazi family and it draws in people so that are on the path to be radicalised. That’s one of the reasons they can have such a large gang.”_

Chompers had known and he’d warned me that something similar would happen with his Alabaster if he were to drop into Abyss, that she might be perverted and corrupted the same way.

“I need info on powers and ways to bind it,” I said. “I’m willing to trade somethings I picked up for it.”

 _“Call Chris and he’ll be able to give you the information,”_ she said. _“I could give you something from our library, but he’s got a more comprehensive store of knowledge.”_

“Could you text me his number?”

 _“Yeah, sure. Sorry, but you caught me at a bad time,”_ she said. _“Family obligations.”_

“It’s okay,” I said.

_“Bye.”_

“Bye,” I said.

I called Chris and we agreed to meet on Sunday because his schedule was filled for most of the week. I didn’t trail Chompers for the rest of the week, instead I gave him freedom so I could train with Elwin one more night before I started to practice on my own to fight with my stick.

I had an idea for the chain and it was _fucking_ hard to implement it, but I diligently worked at it. It involved carving a rune into the chain that would suck up all heat and keep it within the chain. Then I had to cut a sleeve from old clothes, on which I drew a heat insulating rune. I did the same on the glove of my left hand.

With the setup, my chain was always hot which meant I no longer needed to heat it before I fought, something that was hard to do when caught by surprise.

I finally mixed blood with ink and then I had the hard task of trying to fill the ink reservoir, but that felt futile and I resigned myself to buying the expensive quills I’d seen. I could probably make my own, but I didn’t want any of the work to be messy. I had a lot of cash, so I could buy the quills with metal tips.

I chuckled a little. “At least I’ll feel like a wizard.”

I spent a lot of time thinking about my stick too, about whether I could carve diagrams onto it, but that felt _permanent_ in a way that it wasn’t with the chain. And it would mess things up with my training. If I added a wind rune to make it move faster it could throw things off, and if I add an earth rune it could be too heavy.

For now I decided to let things be.

Unlike before, I kept track of the news where they seemed to revolve around the territory disputes at the Docks, about more people being recruited forcibly into the ABB and a few cases of people disappearing.

Sunday finally came and I met with Chris in a large park in the North End.

***

I was on the tall side, which meant a lot of people looked short to me, but Chris was a little shorter than most. He was pale with eyes that were similarly pale with a ring around them, his hair was a dark brown, not styled in any way. To the sight the only difference was that from his hands stretched lines that looked like circuits. The moved from his fingers, where they were thick and bright, up his arms to just over his elbows. There were similar circuits around his eyes.

He’d come on his skateboard, which was bright against the sight, a diagram on the underside, and he carried with him a backpack.

There were a lot of people out in the park, mostly because it was better kept than the park in my neighbourhood. The day was nice, spring that neared summer, and there were birds out. I spotted a few whose colouring told me they might be spirits, which made me a little jealous because I hadn’t seen anything of the sort on my walks home.

“Hey,” said Chris, his voice was a little bored. I smiled. “So, you wanted to know about Alabasters.”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked around. We sat on a benched with a few flowers in the air, there were a few bugs in the air. “Aren’t you worried about being heard?”

“Give me a sec,” said Chris. He pulled out his laptop, a blocky thing that looked like it had fallen a few times, with scratched and scuffs, stickers with diagrams, as well as diagrams carved into it, and booted it up. He opened a file and on it was an image, a connection breaker. “That should do it for a while.”

“How did you do that?” I asked.

“Tablet PC,” he said. “Then I use some online Others as bits of power because blood isn’t as easy. There’s some code work too, if you’re interested in this.”

I shook my head. “I can program a calculator but that’s about it,” I said.

He shrugged. “Anyway, you what do you have to offer for the information on the Alabaster?” he asked.

“A tongue that’ll let you tell a lie and take the karmic debt, but it’ll leave your mouth sour metaphorically and literally,” I said. I reached into my backpack and pulled it out. Chris’ expression twisted. “I’ve also got a coin I found in the Garden Route.”

“You walked it?” he said.

“Yeah,” I said.

“How about you tell me about that and I’ll give you the info I have,” I said.

“You’re still working on the Friend’s game?”

“More that I want to add to collective knowledge to the Paths and this isn’t there yet,” he said. “I’ve done a little digging since everything happened and the ‘safest’ Path Finders talked about was the Forrest Ribbon Trail, which doesn’t seem safe at all just that it’s the most widely known Path. If you walked this one and you’re alive…well, it’s worth documenting to find out the rules. If you walk it again, then we should talk more and I’ll offer bits of knowledge for your time.”

“Okay,” I said with a shrug and I told him about the Path, though I didn’t tell him why I’d needed to walk it in the first place, or that Sophia had been there, or that she’d killed people without batting an eye.

“So every time you go somewhere you see something interest?” he said.

I nodded. “I haven’t walked it again to see what the magnified effect is,” I said. “But I’m a little scared about the sort of stuff I could see. I mean most of the stuff I see is harmless, but while I was biking here, I saw a goblin that was chasing after a squirrel.”

Chris nodded. “But it’s a Path,” he said, “and Paths lead somewhere. It might be useful to someone. Thanks,” he said. He pulled out some papers and handed them over. “There isn’t a lot there because there aren’t a lot of know Alabasters, they usually stay on their own and they’ve gotten rare, but most of what the Protectorate knows is there.”

“Most?” I said.

“Restrictions,” he said. “Good luck with whatever you’re dealing with.”

“Thanks,” I said and with that, our conversation was over.

Alabasters were powerful Others, not guardian spirits as Chompers had said, at least strictly, but they were so abstract that they could fill the role if it was needed. A lot of the stuff Chris had given me seemed abstract, I couldn’t understand how the Alabaster could take the role of Dream or what that would mean, nor what taking the role of War meant.

They were supposed to be powerful creatures but they weren’t fighters, and for being bound they became weaker. Which meant the Alabaster Chompers had would be weaker for being in his company, especially if she had been bound for a very long time. But that still didn’t make things easier to me because Alabasters were also supposed to have insight for the future, and guiding things towards certain ends.

There were examples of what binding an Other might entail, which were twofold, either betrayal—something I guessed Chompers had done to get closer to the Alabaster—or by hunting it as it tried to get into its sanctuary.

Unlucky for me, the Alabaster was locked in their sanctuary and there would be no hunting involved.

I read on, about some of the gifts others had gotten from slaying an Alabaster, how its horns or hide could be used as access into the sanctuary, or how those objects attuned a person to paths.

Ideas started to form, two ideas in particular, and I had no idea if they would work. The first was a _Path,_ if gifts from an Alabaster attuned the person who possessed them to paths, then perhaps I could get into the sanctuary by using a path.

If that didn’t work, then I already had the Alabaster’s head, which had its blood. Maybe…maybe I could create a _hallow,_ find something that was symbolically linked to the Alabaster, give it Alabaster blood for that essence and that might be enough to trick the door into its sanctuary enough that I could walk through.

The Path part was simpler, I could just take the Garden Route again, but the hallow part was a little more complicated, because it would need me to visit the elves again. I needed a prey animal with horns, and I needed help hunting it without buying it. I would need their help, especially since it could take a while to get in that sort of hunting.

I was aware I was around them a lot, aware of what Mr Calvert had told me about karma and imbalances and I made a mental note to first give Elwin a gift before I asked for the favour, or at least payment so I didn’t incur a debt.

But I had to do this to free the Alabaster. It felt _wrong_ that two guardian spirits could be perverted and there would be no one to help them out. I didn’t think I could do anything to help the Alabaster of Brockton Bay, but Chompers’ Alabaster was a different story.

Tomorrow I’d skip school and walk the Garden Route, if that didn’t work, I’d go talk to Elwin.


	17. Chapter 17

My stick was in a loop in my belt. I had the glove and sleeve which insulated heat and the chain had been fed heat. My flashlight had a piece of paper with a light rune on it, radiating lines spreading out from it. A warded day rune with a connection breaker at the centre was of my cloak, though I wasn’t wearing it. Then there was my backpack with some first aid supplies, vials filled with ink, the quill, the coin, the tongue and some locks of Alabaster hair. There were the paper stones as well as Amber who was in her hallow in my ear and Jonah in his lunch box.

I wasn’t sure what I would be going into, but it was better to be prepared.

The morning was warm, but there was the smell of a rain in the air, dark clouds looming in the horizon. It was near ten and I walked in near empty street because people were either at work or at school.

I walked up my neighbourhood, further into the North End where the neighbourhoods were nicer. Technically, my neighbourhood was in the North End, but the area had started to be called the Rills as more people of colour started to move in. As it was, the neighbourhood I lived in marked the area between the North End and the South End of the docks.

Houses were nicer for the most part, but there were some that were on hard times and I could _tell._ Lawns which had turned from green to brown, overgrown with weeds along their walls, one house had sunflowers on its front yard but they were so tall they seemed a nuisance. I walked through with a sense of awareness of how I felt, but the moment I neared boredom I spotted two houses on opposite sides of each other, one with a Pride flag, while another had a confederate flag.

I walked on until I got to a row of houses that looked identical. Well-manicured lawns, white picket fences, the same boring beige paint with white framing, windows that were a similar shape with only _slight_ deviations.

_Suburbia._

A few minutes into the walk I grew bored.

“I wish to travel a path that’ll titillate the mind,” I said.

I noticed a street I hadn’t seen before and I turned into it.

The moment I was through I saw what felt like _life._ There were houses of different models and makes. A house of wood, coloured in bright colours with graffiti painted at its front, I spotted something moving within, big, dark and hairy; houses made of logs like the Friend’s house, but with differences that told it wasn’t the same house; a Victorian manor that stretched into three storeys, crows on the eaves, and a boy standing behind one of the windows, deathly pale, dressed in black, with black eyes.

I kept walking to see other things, people going through their routines. Well, not people, but _Others._ I saw a man, human from the looks of it save that he had yellow skin. When I looked at him with the sight, he looked human, his skin no longer yellow but pale. He stood at his fence, leaned against it, a cigarette in his mouth.

He put out his cigarette as I walked past. He smiled.

“Um…hey?” I said.

“Hello,” he said, that one word with too much stress on the wrong syllables. “How are you?”

“Well,” I said. I was scared but I was good all things considered. “You?”

“Me too,” he said. “You are American?” I nodded. The man chuckled. “You are the first American I see in long time. Mostly it is dark people.”

“Black people?”

“Yes,” he said. “They speak different…” he pointed at his mouth, “tongues. It is why my English is not so good. I learn from them.”

“I can understand you okay, and that’s all that matters, right?”

The man hummed. “I am Blesk,” he said.

“Blesk?” I asked. “Where is that name from?”

He shrugged. He tapped his head. “There are holes,” he said. “I remember small parts, but not things that make me _me._ I don’t know what I was before this.”

“You look human to the sight,” I said.

He nodded. “I know,” he said. “It was an apple that turned me to this.”

“The yellow skin?” I asked.

“The yellow skin,” he said. “There were others like me, men, women and children turned so they looked strange. I met with them, talked to them, but the life was torture. My eyes can see ways to walk. I ran and have hidden here.”

I frowned. “Why are you telling me all this?” I asked.

“Because a man like you,” he said, “a Dream walker who was a friend has not visited me in a long time. I think he is die. I am hopeful that…that maybe you will help me so I free the others like me?”

I swallowed. Could I trust that this was true? That this wasn’t some trick by an Other? I remembered what had happened on the Friend’s road, and the switch between the Man and the Woman in Red. How the Hitchhiker had acted like a friend, but the first chance he got he’d tried to hurt Victoria.

I started to say I’m sorry and stopped. I took a breath and turned forward.

Blesk sighed. “Perhaps if you dream this way again, we will speak.”

I walked away.

The street ended and I walked out of the Other neighbourhood. Reality seemed to shift around me and a building made itself known, a _familiar_ building where I spent most of my days in the week: _Winslow._

Which wasn’t right. I reached for my backpack and pulled out the lock of the Alabaster’s hair. I focused on the webs. One thread, thick and taut, stretched in a direction that would take me to my house, while a whole host stretched out in different directions. I scanned through the webs until I found the nearest one, it stretched into Winslow.

 _Why? Why hadn_ _’t the Garden Route led me to the Alabaster’s sanctuary or at least_ close _to it? And who was connected to the Alabaster in Winslow?_

I folded up my cloak and put it in my backpack then walked into school. The security guard gave me a look of disapproval as I walked in, but he didn’t say anything. I followed the web through school until I stopped in Mr Gladly’s civics class.

There I saw that the web stretched to Sophia who sat in class, her expression placid.

***

Conversation stopped as I loomed over the table. A bunch of girls, all looking at me, none of which knew what to say.

I had my sight active but my attention was divided between three webs, not enough focus to pay attention to how people looked. Sophia’s web was of dull ambivalence, with only slight hints that there was interest. It was thick and heavy, which I didn’t understand as well.

The _other_ two webs were worrying.

The first was from Emma, and it was a thick, twisted mess of emotions I couldn’t parse. Emma had stopped wanting to be my friend and to this day I still had no idea why, then we’d come to school and she’d turned into an awful person. She _hadn_ _’t_ wanted to be my friends and from that it should have been the case that her web was loose and fluttered with the wind, close to breaking, instead I had the sense that there was a lot of resentment and anger there.

 _Why?_ one part of me wondered, and it was a young Taylor, the same one who’d grown up with Emma.

 _I don_ _’t fucking care,_ another part thought, louder and angry.

But that wasn’t the truth, because the truth was, _I don_ _’t_ want _to fucking care._

The other web came from the Nazi cluster and looking with the corner of my sight I knew it came from Tammi the Nazi, which was _worrying._

“Hebert,” said Sophia. “You looked decked out for war.”

I shrugged. “Can we talk?”

The webs between Sophia and Emma, and then Emma and I pulsed. I turned towards Emma and I caught an expression of _utmost_ loathing before it turned into a grin.

“If the war’s against fashion then she’s gonna win hands down,” Emma said. The table tittered nervously.

I ignored them. “Can we?” I said to Sophia.

Sophia shrugged. “Sure,” she said. The web between her and Emma flared again. Sophia stood and Emma did the same. Sophia stopped.

“I’m coming,” she said.

“Whatever,” said Sophia.

 _This isn_ _’t what I want,_ I thought. _It makes things more complicated. Both because it_ _’s Emma and because she’s innocent._

I started to walk away. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a pent. I drew a circle with a point at the head, then the turning scythes. I licked my finger and dabbed it in the middle.

“Emma!” said Madison. “Your phone’s ringing.”

Emma frowned. “Wait for me,” she said.

“Not gonna do that,” said Sophia.

I said nothing, still walking ahead. The ink off my diagram was disintegrating, not helped by the persistent web of Tammi the Nazi that was trying to connect after being turned.

Emma jogged over to the table. Sophia and I left.

When we were outside the cafeteria I reached into the pocket of my backpack and pulled out the tongue. I squeezed it so saliva flowed off, then rubbed that onto the diagram. The lines grew starker and as I watched the webs, they had a harder time trying to reconnect.

We found a place where there weren’t a lot of people.

“What’s going on?” Sophia said.

“Do you know anything about an Alabaster?” I asked, direct because there wasn’t a lot of time. The effect wasn’t _as_ bad as before, but the lines of my diagram were still thinning.

“The Alabaster of Brockton Bay,” she said. “I think most people know about it.” Her expression turned ugly. “Why, did it call you or something?”

“No,” I said, “and that’s not the Alabaster I’m talking about. The one I’m talking about presents as a girl, or maybe a woman?”

She frowned. She took a step back and she stood straighter.

“Do you know anything about her?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “What’s it to you?”

“I need your word you won’t tell anyone,” I said. “Swear oaths that you’ll keep it downlow.”

“I swear that whatever the fuck you’re going to tell me I’ll do my best to keep a secret,” she said. “Unless keeping the secret means that I’m going to die, then I’ll sing like a bird, metaphorically.”

“Good enough,” I muttered. “Do you remember the Other that we saw after…” I didn’t want to mention the Nazis when one of them was trying to look our way. Sophia nodded. “Well, he managed to get the Alabaster and he’s tainted it. I think he’s using the Alabaster as a place to get power, which means he might be eating the people in her sanctuary.”

Sophia frowned. “How the fuck did he manage that?” he said.

“I can’t tell you,” I said. “Deals I made. I want to free her and I’m trying to find her sanctuary to see if I can’t get in. The door’s locked, but there’s a way I might be able to get in. I walked the Garden Route today to get me there, instead I got here where you were the closest connection to the Alabaster.”

Sophia nodded. “I don’t know where her sanctuary is,” she said. She frowned and her eyes looked harsher, her body was rigid. “Last time I was there was almost two years ago. I walked out and she told me I’d never be able to walk back in there.”

She swallowed, frustration in her eyes.

I sighed. “I thought you’d give me a good lead,” I muttered. “Guess I’ll—”

“When did you hear me say that I couldn’t?” she said, heat in her voice. “I know someone, a guy that communes with her, in the Lower Bay. He’s the paranoid type and he doesn’t like people like you.”

“People like me?”

“White people,” she said. “Doesn’t trust them. I’ll take you there, help you out, then you can consider us square.”

“Square?”

“You kept me from having a shitty time,” she said.

“I helped you,” I said. “And there doesn’t need to be a _square_ about it. You know you can just help people, right? That… _fuck,_ Sophia, how bent are you that you think that there needs to be equity in this?” I was aware that I was frustrated but I just couldn’t help it. “How bent are you that you think someone has to _ask_ to get help first?”

“You’re still on that?” she muttered.

“You…” I stopped, I was talking too loudly. “You killed people and it was so you could help.”

“I was absolving myself,” she muttered. She shrugged. “It’s bad karma to kill innocents. But the spirits like balance and I’m being their agent, they’re more willing to give me slack.”

“Tell me that’s the only reason you’re doing it,” I said. “Not because you want to help people. I heard what you said.”

Sophia stepped forward and I stood my ground. She stared me down.

“You don’t know me, Hebert,” she said, her voice soft. “Don’t pretend like you do. Now—”

I turned away as webs finally connected. Not Tammi the Nazi, but something else. A ghost, _her_ ghost, the Manacled Man. He stood at the doors of the cafeteria and he watched us. Sophia turned and saw him too.

“I’m tired of her shit,” Sophia muttered before she strode towards the ghost.

The Manacled Man, bound by heavy chains, flickered into a bent form, tired, his eyes red. The feeling cast out and I took a step back, wrapped by a strong sense of futility. Unlike the first time I’d felt the aura, I _knew_ what it was now, but it didn’t make it any easier to move.

Sophia didn’t have the same problem.

“I’m not you,” she said, her voice raw. “I’m not a victim. I fight _back._ _”_

She spat. The gob of spit hit the Manacled Man. He disappeared, reappeared, flickered, then, with a scream of rage, broke his chains and pushed the doors open with force.

Another scream before I caught the flicker of him running.

Then there were screams.

“Let’s head out,” said Sophia. “Unless you don’t want me to get you there?”

“Let’s go,” I said as my stomach roiled at the thought of whatever the fuck was going to fall out from the ghost being sent back.

At first I thought we would take the bus to the Lower Bay, but Sophia laughed more than needed at that which told me enough. We took a cab instead because I didn’t want to travel through the Garden Route a third time, nor did Sophia for that matter.

I didn’t know any of the places in the Lower Bay, which meant trusting that Sophia wouldn’t screw me over. It was anxiety inducing but I had the Alabaster hair and I used that to see the closest web, then used that to know if she was really leading me towards whoever this guy was.

The Lower Bay was a neighbourhood that was a mix of Latinx and Black people. Much like the Trainyard, it wasn’t a place that I frequented and I felt uncomfortable as I walked through its streets. There were white people, but they were so few that a part of me thought it might be the Garden Route ensuring that I saw something interesting _._

Sophia didn’t talk to me, she only kept ahead, which meant I had a lot of time to think and my thoughts seemed to stick on something. I was uncomfortable here as I had been when I’d been walking through the Trainyard area with Alec. Then, I’d thought it was because of being in an unfamiliar neighbourhood, and even now I thought the same thing. But I couldn’t ward away the niggling thought of _maybe_ it wasn’t the only reason.

I was watching the news now, and I could see all the stuff that had been hidden from me before. There was a gang war with the Nazis, but it felt like the precursor to something worse. It felt like if this gang war was won by the wrong side, then it would be a collective loss.

People were afraid and they were doing their best to speak out, telling others how much of this was a problem. Trouble in the Docks seemed to stay in the South End and they were impacting people of colour more than white people. Police were in the area but they seemed to be making things worse.

There was a lot of racist shit going on and I felt like the part of me that was uncomfortable with being here was informed by it.

I wasn’t racist. I didn’t believe racist shit. But…the feelings I had now made me think I might have biases that were informed by racism.

It was an uncomfortable thought, one that hung heavy on my shoulders and one I wanted to lock away in a little box so I didn’t have to think about.

But that felt dishonest.

We reached a house, its lawn bedraggled and paint peeling from its walls. The blinds were drawn and there was a giant mark on the door written out in blood. I looked at it with the sight and it shone with power.

“Stay here,” said Sophia.

I didn’t move. She climbed up the stairs and knocked, _hard._ She waited a little before knocked again, louder. The door was wrenched open and a thin man, his eyes big, beard unkempt and with wild hair, stepped out, a gun levelled at Sophia.

“What do you want?” the man said.

“Brought her,” she said with a point in my direction. The man’s eyes flickered in my direction. The web that stretched between me and him soured, not that it had been too good in the first place. “She’s looking for info on the Alabaster. Can we come in.”

“You trust her?” the man asked. Sophia hesitated. The man stepped back and Sophia stepped forward. The man closed the door and Sophia put her hand on it. It stopped. “Be _very_ careful.”

“She’s genuine,” said Sophia.

“She’s genuine _how?_ _”_ the man asked.

“The Alabaster’s in trouble and she wants to help her.”

The man hesitated then nodded. “Swear oaths,” he said. “Not to cause trouble.”

Sophia nodded. She motioned and I walked towards them.

“Swear that you don’t and have never worked for E88,” he said. I did. “Swear that you don’t and have never worked for the Anders family.” I did. “Swear that you won’t cause trouble while you’re in my house.”

“I swear that I won’t knowingly cause trouble,” I said, “and if you tell me I’m starting to cause trouble, I’ll stop whatever I’m doing, or, if I can’t do that, I’ll leave.”

He nodded. “Come,” he said.

We stepped in and the house was bigger than I’d been expecting it, yet it felt smaller because there was a _lot_ within it. The man was a hoarder. There were piles of newspapers from different publications, there was a wall filed with so many pictures that I couldn’t see the wall beyond, another that was filled with sickles of different sizes and in different conditions. There was always a lot of furniture, tables that lined one side and each of them had something, _lamps_ of different sizes, skulls from different animals, chains big and small, and even guns.

A _lot_ of guns.

We went into the living room where there were three TV sets, all on and all playing static. There were five radios in the radios and the room and they also played static. On the wall were ten different types of mirror and none of them showed a reflection.

The smell of something damp filled the air, while static reverberated.

It was dizzying.

There were three sofa and they had stuff on them.

The man moved the stuff onto the floor with care.

“I don’t have anything to drink,” he said.

“That’s fine,” said Sophia. I nodded.

“What do you want?” the man asked.

“I want more information on the Alabaster,” I said. “She’s been captured by a Bogeyman and I want to make sure she’s freed.”

“Captured how?” the man asked.

“I can’t say,” I said. “I made a deal and I have to be very careful about the information I shared.”

The man looked at me with distrust.

“When’s the last time you saw her?” Sophia asked.

“A year, maybe more?” he said and shrugged. “I don’t visit a lot. Especially after…” he looked around. He swallowed. “I went looking for her, she told me I’d have her aid and I needed it, but she wasn’t there.”

“Did you look into it?” I asked. “What did you learn?”

“I blamed the Nazis,” he said. “Alabasters have an eye for these things. They knew I was going after them, that I was going to supplant that fucked up Alabaster of Brockton Bay. So they did _this_ _…_ then they made sure she wasn’t going to be a problem. At least that’s what I thought. But you say it’s different. It’s a Bogeyman?”

I nodded. I swallowed. “Can I ask…what happened?”

“Ever ask yourself why there isn’t a counter to the Nazis?” Sophia said. “Their gang? Their influence.”

I shrugged.

 _“This,”_ she said. “They do this. It’s hard to have a gang running when they have so much power. They need a place to gather and the Nazis can use magic to find that place out, then call the Man in Blue to do their work for them. For that to happen, you need a Demesne, but they stop people like us from getting one.”

“But isn’t this a Demesne?” I asked. “You have one?”

“I’m also broken, aren’t I?” the man said, anger in his voice. “The Protectorate didn’t help. Couldn’t afford another gang, couldn’t afford a break in the status quo. They wanted to bind me with deals. When I said now they came at me too hard. When the Nazis came, they came last, I didn’t have that much power. I won the battle, but the fuckers made sure they won the war.”

_Things are very wrong when the only answer seems to be starting a gang._

“The Alabaster was helping me,” the man continued. “She can ease it,” he said and he pointed at his head. “Make sure I can work. But she’s been gone and now look at this fucking place.”

“Can you find her sanctuary?” I asked. “She’s in there and it’s locked behind her. I might have a way to break through—”

“What way?” he cut in, tone harsh.

“I have access to her blood,” he said. “I’m going to build a hallow then fill it with her essence. I’m hoping that will be enough to trick the door into opening for me. The only other way is finding a key and I feel like that will be harder.”

The man stood and walked on over to a room divider filled with different plates. He opened it and within were jars filled with rats suspended in liquid. One, the size of a fist, was filled with blood. He took it and handed it to Sophia.

He looked at me.

“Swear that that blood won’t be used against me,” he said. “No dallying, no weaselling out. _Swear._ _”_

“I swear I won’t use the blood against you,” I said.

“Swear that you’ll use the blood _only_ to get the Alabaster,” he said.

_Only_ _…_

I was going to make a hallow with Alabaster blood and that promised to be powerful. It sucked to think that I wouldn’t be able to use it for any other purpose, but…

I nodded. “I swear that I’ll use the blood to only find the Alabaster,” I said.

“Swear you’ll ensure that this blood cannot be used against me, nor for any other purpose than to find the Alabaster.”

That one was a little trickier, but I swore nonetheless.

I took the blood from Sophia at that. I didn’t trust her so much that I was willing to be forsworn.

_I_ _’ll have to burn the hallow after I’m done, to make sure it can never be used._

“Find a third,” he said. “Someone tied to the Alabaster. There’s power in the number three.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“Now leave me alone,” the man said.

We left the house.

“Give me the hair you’ve been using,” said Sophia, when we were a bit away from the house. I gave her a look. “I’ll find the others and you can work on building that hallow.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” she said.

“This horse may be diseased,” I said.

“You want my fucking help or not?” she muttered.

“I’m not sure if I want your help because I don’t _get_ you,” I said.

“You said before that I shouldn’t wait before someone asks for help,” she muttered. “That’s what I’m doing now—”

“Yeah, but it’s not that simple, is it?” I said. “You’re expecting me to forget all the shit you’ve done. I can’t just trust you, Sophia, and implicit in asking for help, is a need for _trust._ _”_

“You trusted me to get here,” she said.

“Not one bit,” I said. “I verified all the way here. I was _scared_ that you’d gotten me into some shit. I _don_ _’t_ trust you and I have no idea if I can.”

“Whatever,” she muttered. “Give me the hair or not. It’s up to you.”

I gave her a long look before I let out a frustrated breath.

I gave her the hair.

I had more.

***

I gave Chompers free time that night for an umbilical cord that could strengthen connections and I went into the elves’ domain.

Elwin was bouncing as he waited for me, his stick at the ready.

“I need help,” I said to Elwin.

“We’ll talk and spar,” he said, his voice filled with jubilation.

I pulled my stick free and got into my stance. My footing apart while I angled my body so I was ready to move. Elwin was shorter than I was but he was faster and had a way of moving that was _fluid._ He could get in my guard and hit me hard, and he always moved first.

Elwin took off and I went on the defence.

Clack-clack-clack reverberated as I guarded, the sound stretching longer as I was forced to bat Elwin’s stick aside. I went on the offence when I saw an opening but Elwin spun out of the way and hit me on the leg _hard._ My leg folded and I fell. Elwin stepped back and waited for me to get up.

“You said you need help,” he said. He waited a little longer which meant it was my turn to go on the offence. I did and Elwin fended off the attacks with ease.

“I want to build a hallow,” I said, “and infuse it with blood for a project I’m working on.”

“Oooh,” he said. He pushed aside my stick as it hit his, stepped into my guard and hit me with the back of his stick in my stomach. My breath left me and I stumbled back. “What blood are you going to be using?”

I coughed before I regained my breath. I still didn’t answer.

“I swear I won’t tell anyone,” he said, “that I won’t talk about it to anyone that doesn’t already know.”

 _More people are finding out about this,_ I thought. _I_ _’m not sure why I’m still keeping it a secret above the fact I still want this to be_ mine.

“Alabaster blood, and the blood of a person who’s close to an Alabaster,” I told him.

“Ah,” he said.

“Ah?”

“Ah,” he said. “There was something a while back. The days and nights pass so fast it’s hard to keep track of time, but there was a person who was bound to another Alabaster. I thought the Alabaster of Brockton Bay would be unseated. Nothing ever came of it.”

“That’s the Alabaster I’m trying to help,” I said. “It’s been perverted by a Bogeyman and I’m going to get that back. I need a way to break into the Alabaster’s sanctuary.”

He nodded. “Okay,” he said. “You want to go hunting for a doe?”

“And making the hallow in a way tied to nature,” I said. “The ways I know are tied to prayer, purified water or sage burning. I wonder if there’s a—”

Elwin went on the attack but I’d been expecting it. I guarded then stepped forward and kicked. I caught him in the chest and he flowed with the motion, fell, rolled and came up.

“—a more natural way to build a hallow, one that’ll make it easier for the Alabaster’s essence and whatever Alabaster-like spirits are around to find home in the hallow.”

He nodded.

“I’m willing to give you gifts for your help,” I said. “I don’t have a lot, but I have some stuff I got that might be gifts. Like—”

“I’ll give you a seed,” he said. “With instruction on how to grow it. You’ll plant it and you’ll tend to it for three months.”

“Are the instruction hard or will the mean I lose my _self?_ _”_ I asked.

“No,” he said. “Not particularly.”

“Is there any penalty that might see me lose my self?”

“Only that I will be a little mad at you if you fail,” he said. “The spirits won’t like it too, but you won’t be forsworn.”

“Then I’m willing to accept the price on review of the instructions,” I said.

Elwin smiled, which gave me an opening. I stepped to attack but that had been a trap and Elwin blocked and hit my hand hard enough my stick was knocked away.

I hissed.

“Let’s go running,” he said and he darted away.

I picked up my stick and followed.


	18. Chapter 18

“It’s been a while since we had a chat,” said Chompers. “I was starting to think you were bored of me.”

“Did you really?” I asked as I sat in my chair.

It was three days after I’d talked to Elwin about hunting a doe and building a hallow, and I still hadn’t gone to school. The world of magic did a good job trying to protect itself. I’d noticed it at home with Dad and Amber, which presented itself as Dad thinking that the house was too old and it was starting to have the tendencies that old houses often had. It creaked and groaned, doors shifted, the pipes growled as water passed through them, and, in general, the house settled a lot more.

None of which was true.

Amber regularly checked everything through the house to ensure there was nothing untoward that might get us.

In a similar vein, something to that effect had happened in Winslow. The Manacled Man had rebounded after Sophia had banished him, and he’d attacked his master. Usually ghosts couldn’t be seen, but there’d been enough energy that the veil had been lifted. The kids of Winslow didn’t know that it was a ghost, but they’d seen a black guy attack the Nazis and the Nazis responding in force which the ABB had responded to in turn.

Police had been called and the entire thing was a mess.

Dad had decided that it was better not to go to school for a while until the administration had an idea how things would follow.

Which gave me more time.

“I was starting to,” said Chompers.

“Okay,” I said. “I haven’t, just haven’t had a lot to ask until now. What do you do when you’re free?”

“I walk around,” he said. “Mainly in the South End. There’s a lot of activity and a few bodies won’t be missed.”

“Do you have a side in the ABB-E88 conflict?” I asked.

“No,” he said.

“So you’re there for personal reasons?” I asked. “Getting power?”

He nodded.

“What are the ways that a Bogeyman can get power?”

“Fear is the easiest,” he said. “Terror that lingers. But more than anything an impact is the best way for a Bogeyman to keep themselves out of the Abyss. A killing that hits the news, perhaps a legend that grows in your particular killing style. Enough of a pattern to form grooves in reality, and the Abyss’ hold is halted for longer.”

“Halted?”

“The Abyss’ hold is always there,” he said. “It almost never goes away unless stronger bonds exist.”

“Like?”

“Familiarhood,” he said.

_Is that you asking to be my familiar?_

It didn’t feel right.

I nodded and jotted that down. “How did you get the Alabaster?” I asked. “A detailed answer.”

“A betrayal,” he said. “I was invited because she assumed me to be something I’m not—”

“Innocent.” Chompers didn’t say anything. “Innocent?”

“Yes, innocent,” he said. “She has good eyes, but even the best of eyes can be fooled. I fooled her, got close and took her head, then gave her another for good measure so she didn’t bite back.”

“Can she do that?” I asked. “Bite you?”

“She’s a big spirit,” he said with a shrug. “I assume so. Better safe than sorry.”

“How did you make yourself innocent?” I asked.

He opened his mouth and the baby popped out. It didn’t have its umbilical cord because he’d given it to me, but it was still alive, its little hands moving.

I swallowed, a pit of unease in my stomach, but not as strong when he’d first thrown the baby up.

“How did you get it?” I asked.

“A deal,” he answered. “I had the chance to kill a woman that was to be with child. She said she’d give me anything for her life. I asked for her unborn child. She said yes.”

_Fuck you so much._

I jotted that down.

“Is the baby still alive?” I asked.

“Young children are hallows,” he said. “They are usually protected by their mothers, with the mother deciding the spirits that flow into a child. A mother that stays too long in bad places will corrupt the child. When they are born, they aren’t as hollow, but there is still a tendency for them to draw in spirits. This child has been within me for six years, surrounded by the Abyss, a place which doesn’t hold death to high esteem.”

“So the child can’t die?” I asked.

“I haven’t tested it,” said Chompers, “but I think it would take a _lot_ for the child to die, yes. They are more likely to find their way to the Abyss than any true death.”

“And what might happen there?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“What would be the price of me getting the child?” I asked.

“Freedom,” he said.

“That’s a big ask,” I said.

He smiled. “Better to start high so you’re more amenable to my true wish,” he said.

“Which is?”

“A deal similar to that we’ve had on and off but extended through my binding,” he said. “I get freedom of seven hours in total, from eleven at night to five in the morning, with similar terms as before.”

“Will the baby die if it’s out of you for an extended amount of time?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve been carrying if for a while, but I think it might find its way to the Abyss.”

I nodded, my lips purse. Ideas started to form. “I’ll get everything in writing for the deal,” I said.

It would be giving up the ability to drain him dry slowly, but the baby was a big win because babies were all _about_ innocence. I wasn’t sure how Chompers would be received after this, but I hoped it would be a _lot_ worse.

The price was worth it, and maybe I could make sure the kid grew up for a semblance of normality.

I stepped forward and redrew the warded day runes in their circle. Chompers found himself surrounded in darkness. I still hadn’t made chalk from the Bogeyman bone, but the last few weeks and been _really_ busy, and I wanted the matter with Chompers and the Alabaster done with. Which meant limiting distractions.

Upstairs, a sandwich in front of me, I called Mr Calvert.

 _“Taylor,”_ he said.

“Hey,” I said. “I have something to sell, but I’ve got some terms.”

_“I’m listening.”_

“I’m going to get a baby,” I said. “It was given to a Bogeyman by a deal, and the Bogeyman is going to give it to me in payment for some breathing room. The baby has been within the Bogeyman for a while.”

 _“Quite the find,”_ said Mr Calvert. _“Are you sure you want to sell it? I don’t think many of those exist. It could be a strong power source.”_

I thought about it for a second, realised what I was doing and felt disappointed in myself. I shook my head.

“I…want… If there’s a chance, I want it so this kid grows up,” I said, “has a normal life. That’s part of the terms. They go to a good family, they’re not sacrificed or any of that sort of shit. They get the chance to _be.”_

 _“There’s a lot we can do with the wording,”_ he said. _“I’ll draft a contract and have it to you in two days’ time.”_

“Thank you,” I said.

 _“I’ll have to auction it off,”_ he said. _“It’ll take longer, but the yield will be higher.”_

“Thanks,” I said. “You’ll take a cut, for the work you put in?”

_“Would you like me to?”_

“Ten percent, maybe?” I asked.

 _“Ten percent. Good. Good,”_ he said. _“To inform you. I’ve already talked to your father about our deal. He seems amenable.”_

“Okay,” I said. _He hasn’t told me._

 _“Until we next meet,”_ he said.

I cut the line. Dad deserved to have his own secrets too, especially when the secrets I was keeping from him were so much larger. I took a breath and went through a mental list of all the stuff I still had to do.

Yesterday had been more tree running with Elwin. He’d told me that my footsteps were too loud and they’d spook prey animals, which made that the top of my list. I still had the silence rune Victoria had given me, though I hadn’t used it much. Which was a bit of oversight on my account because the combo of darkness, connection breaker, and silence would make following people undetected much easier.

Which is how I spent most of the day before I tended to the seed Elwin had given me.

The instructions weren’t dangerous, but they were annoying. They required me to keep a chart of the days, have a good sense of direction for the house so that I could move the plant. The instruction could be something as easy as watering the plant three times a day, to moving it to the north facing window on the second Wednesday of the month.

But I’d made a promise that I’d do my best to tend the seed, and I didn’t want to break the _spirit_ of the promise even if there was some wiggle room.

The next day I started to write the contract for Chompers, we talked it over to make sure the wording was okay, I gave myself breathing room, which I didn’t really need because there wasn’t anything there, most of the backbone of the contract was built on similar past deals. Finally we both signed it.

I’d given up a _lot_ of time, but hopefully I’d saved a life and taken away more of Chompers’ innocence. The latter, _possibly,_ would mean that his hold over the Alabaster sanctuary was lessened, but it was a small hope. I didn’t think Chompers would have done it if he didn’t have something under his sleeve.

Mr Calvert came to pick the kid, a doctor with him. They left soon after without much of a conversation between us.

I spent the next few days sleeping most of the time, while my nights were spent with Elwin trekking through trees as silently as I could. On Friday I thought about following Chompers again, but things in the Docks were still rough and I didn’t want to be caught up in it. The news said an old warehouse connected to E88 had been burned, and there was a lot more news of disappearances in the city.

Not a time to be out and about, even when it could lead me to the Alabaster’s sanctuary.

But at least I had something of an idea, questions I could ask that would narrow things down. Questions that were better asked when everything was set up and I had only to break down the door and get into the Alabaster’s sanctuary.

_Then what?_

The only plan I had so far was returning her head, but I had no idea how that would work. Maybe I could get her to eat it like Chompers ate stuff to imbue it within him, but _how_ would I get that to happen?

I’d first need to bind her and compel her into my service. Which either meant a positive or a negative binding. Positive was perhaps the easier of the two, because I already had the blood of people connected to the Alabaster. I didn’t think I’d be able to use Alabaster’s blood, but maybe I could use one of the people connected to her.

Sophia had said she would help. I needed to follow up on that so I didn’t do any redundant work. But I _really_ didn’t want to talk to Sophia. She was draining in a way I couldn’t quite pin down so I put her off for tomorrow. I’d use an Alabaster hair to find the one she had.

But since I wanted something to do, I sent Chris a text that I’d walked the Garden Route so he could prepare a piece of knowledge to give me for the exchanged. Unlike me, he had school, so he asked that we talked on the weekend, though he asked for permission to give Carlos my number because he had a request.

I acquiesced and Carlos called not a few minutes later.

 _“Yo, Taylor,”_ he said.

“Hey,” I said. I swallowed. “How are you doing with everything? Things have sort of been hectic and I haven’t kept in touch with everything.”

 _“Victoria said you were dealing with something on the higher end,”_ he said. _“I get it. So, hey, I heard you had a hex a while back. Do you still have it?”_

“Yeah,” I said.

 _“I want to trade you for it,”_ he said.

“Um…that Hand of yours,” I said. “Could you write me a _how_ of making it?”

 _“That’s…”_ he sighed. _“I know how to make one, but I don’t think you’d be able to make it. Without giving away too much, the hand I had was a human hand.”_

“Oh,” I said. I hadn’t thought about that. “Um…wow.”

 _“Yeah,”_ he said. _“One of the reasons I asked you not tell the Protectorate. They don’t like what they think is_ dark _magic. Or any of the stuff that’s not PC.”_

“Um…what else can you give me?” I asked.

 _“I could teach you to make a mask,”_ he said. _“It’s close to being a hallow, but this one draws certain spirits. It means connections have a harder time sticking to_ you.”

 _A mask like Sophia’s,_ a part of me thought. _You’re really starting to be like her, aren’t you?_

But masks were useful. It could mean I was better able to hide from Chompers as I trailed him.

“Wait, will I have to learn how to carve like you did?” I asked.

 _“It would help,”_ he said. _“Time, devotion, to make it more yours.”_

“Um, sorry, no,” I said. “That’s too much to learn. Do you have anything simpler?”

 _“Uh…Help me out here,”_ he said. _“What sort of stuff do you need?”_

“Do you think you’d be able to give me blood from someone who’s mentally infirm? It would help on my project.”

_In case Sophia doesn’t pull through._

“You have access to blood, you might have access to this.”

 _“I’ll be able to get it,”_ he said. _“I’ll call when I do. We’ll meet and trade?”_

“Yeah,” I said.

 _“Bye,”_ he said and he dropped the line.

“Guess I’ll be saying goodbye to you soon, Jonah,” I said.

Which was good, I hadn’t used him because I feared his influence, at least with Carlos he’d do some good in helping with the curse he had over his family.

***

Chompers smiled and my stomach dropped.

My heart beat faster as my mind started to run over everything I’d done, everything I’d said and every deal we’d concluded in search for a trap. I didn’t think there were any. I’d been _exceedingly_ careful.

_He’s just trying to scare me._

“I think,” he said slowly, “that I will save my seven hours.”

I frowned. “What?”

“I said,” he said, “I think I’ll save the night’s seven hours.”

_Could he do that._

I started to think things through before I stopped and ran upstairs to pick up the contracts, all of them. The first deal we’d made was that he could have an hour’s freedom, and it stretched from 10pm to 11pm. The second deal had been from 1am to 2am. The third, for the baby, had been an extension, freedom from 10pm to 5am. In total seven hours.

There’d been nothing on the contract that kept him from saving up his time, but I couldn’t understand why he would, not when the period he was bound within, 10pm to 5am, couldn’t be changed.

I glanced at my clock. He wasn’t going to be free for a few more minutes.

“Okay,” I said. “What are you hoping to get from this?”

“My freedom at an earlier date,” he answered, a bit of giddiness in his voice.

“ _How?”_ I asked, because as I looked at the contract. I still couldn’t figure it out.

“Read the contract over again,” he said.

I frowned and my eyes ran over the contract. He had seven hours of freedom, but those seven hours stretched from ten to five. So what…how would he be able to weasel out of the terms to get his freedom earlier?

“You don’t see it?” he said. “Then I should answer to keep my end of our deals. The contract states that I shall have freedom of seven hours, and that my freedom shall start from the hour of eleven at night and end at five in the morning, but does it state anywhere if the end should be the next _immediate_ time?”

I frowned. “What?”

“Said simpler, dear Taylor,” he said. “There are seven-hundred-and-forty-four hour left in my binding as per our terms, or thirty-one days said simpler still. If I start now, I will save in total two-hundred-and-seventeen hours, which will mean I am freed from you almost nine days earlier. My contracted freedom will begin at ten and end at five, before my true freedom begins.”

 _You’re so smug for so little time,_ a part of me thought, but that part was stupid, because that was almost a third of a month. It meant I had a _third_ less time to learn to hunt, to build a hallow, to find the Alabaster, to find a way to bind, and then figure out a way to help her.

Which was above such things as school, sleep and anything else that might come up.

It had been two weeks without school, but that was set to end.

I now had three weeks, probably less, and all because when I’d been making the contract with Chompers I’d been lazy.

To make all of _that_ worse, I wouldn’t be able to follow Chompers to the sanctuary of the Alabaster anymore.

 _You are not going to have this win,_ I thought.

“I could not accept this,” I said. “The contract states nothing either way. I could consider you free as you’re slated to be.”

He hummed. “I’ve already stated my intention,” he said, “and I stated it first which means the spirits are already in my favour. You would have to a lot to convince them that I was free. I could just stay in this circle and I could still be considered bound.”

“I could take it away,” I said.

“And the second circle?”

“That too,” I said.

“The house, then? Would I have guest right? Would I be free to move about as I please? Would I have that freedom?”

I stopped. I wasn’t going to give him that. It was too much of a risk.

He started to laugh.

I swallowed. “Okay,” I said. I hadn’t been prepared for it and it would mess things up for me, but I wasn’t going to get shafted by Chompers again.

I went to the corner of the room and armoured up. Cloak, sleeve, glove and chain, the flashlight with the radiating day rune. I put on my backpack with everything I had, bits of paper with runes already prepared and waiting to be finished off, as well as the tongue which I’d started to use more often as a way to fuel my connection breaker.

A breath, and with my mind on the conversation we’d just had.

“You’ve said you thought to choose to forgo your freedom this night,” I said, standing straighter. I glanced at my watch. Only two minutes till ten. “As such you will still under my service, still bound to protect me. I tell you, _bid_ you, to make the decision now so I know where we stand. But _know_ I will ask you to lead me to the Alabaster’s sanctuary.”

Chompers smile dipped. “So that’s been your card,” he said. “That’s why you’ve been so comfortable.”

_Honestly, I just had the thought that I might do that right now after you forced me to read over every contract we made. Nothing’s stopping me from doing that, is there?_

I said nothing.

“I’ll take my freedom,” he said, “and tonight and every other night through my binding if we add an addendum to our deal. You will no longer have the power to compel me to divulge the location of the sanctuary in any way, directly or indirectly.”

 _That’s giving up a lot for nine days,_ I thought.

“No,” I said.

Chompers chuckled. “Oh,” he said. “Is it, then, because you know who I gave the key to and now need only the location?” He shook his head. “Or perhaps because you have a way to get in without the key?” He grinned. I did my best not to swallow, but the thought that he might know terrified me. “That’s it. That’s the one.”

 _He can feel fear,_ I thought. _He felt how afraid I was at him getting close._

_Fuck you so much._

I glanced at my clock. Thirty seconds before ten.

“Are you going to take your freedom or are you going to accrue it?” I asked. “I bid you to answer me.”

“I think I’ll take my chances,” he said. “I’ll accrue my freedom.”

_I wasn’t prepared for this. I wasn’t prepared to go out._

Ten hit.

_But I’d made a promise._

“Chompers,” I said as I walked forward and moved one of the pieces of paper to break his circle. “Lead me to the Alabaster’s sanctuary.”

He stepped forward. “I have to protect you,” he said, “so know, I had guards around the Alabaster’s sanctuary to keep you at bay.”

 _Wouldn’t expect any less from you,_ I thought.

“If you’d follow me.”

***

“How many guards do you have?” I asked as we walked at something of a sedate pace. It was still early enough into the night that there were _some_ people out and about, but not enough that we couldn’t move away.

The runes I had on my goatskin coat kept away much of the light, which meant I was harder to see in darkness. I hadn’t used the connection breaker because I couldn’t account for Chompers and I didn’t want him to know how far I’d progressed.

_Do you even need to keep that card up your sleeve with the sheer and utter stupidity you’re pulling right now?_

The thought was loud and desperate. I was scared, but more than anything I was scared that Chompers would know that I was scared. Which made me realise that he very likely already knew that I was scared because of his fear sense.

 _I can’t let him win,_ I thought and I let that anger fill me up.

There was an out.

I’d told him that I’d tell him to _lead_ me to the Alabaster’s sanctuary and I already had, but this was to show him that I wasn’t just blustering, that there were consequences for the shit he was trying to pull and it put _him_ in danger.

 _Are you sure_ he’s _the one who’s in danger? Because it feels like it’s all you._

“Five Others,” he said. “Three Bogeymen, a goblin and hunger spirit.”

“What are the names of the Bogeymen, which parts of the Abyss do they come from, and what magic do they have?” I asked.

“The Matron, the Clerk and the Bell Woman and her flock,” he said. “The Matron is from the Infirmaries, she puts those who are suffering out of their misery. She isn’t a fighter but she is very good at her purpose. The Clerk is from unknown parts of the Abyss, but we’ve worked together, late at night in stores that open through the night. I took the role of lost child crying for a parent, while he was the sole employee in a department store. I haven’t seen him fight, but he’s good at sneaking up on people.

“The Bell Woman is another Bogeyman from a part of the Abyss I don’t know. She has a bell she tolls that draws people near, when she gets them, she turns them into sheep. She can’t fight, but her sheep can fight on her command.”

“How many sheep does she have?” I asked.

“Five.”

I swallowed.

_You shouldn’t be doing this. You should turn back and this of a way to fight them._

_But Chompers is going to win._

_Chompers is going to win if you die too. He has to protect you, but was there anything explicit in that contract that gives a penalty if he fails to protect you because of events outside of his control?_

I stopped at the thought.

Chompers stopped too. He turned towards me, lipless mouth pulled back to reveal a toothy smile.

 _Fuck you so much, Chompers,_ I said. _I want to hit you in a way that truly hurts. But I can’t right now. Not like this. Not alone._

I took a deep breath and counted to ten. My hands were clenched tight in fists, frustration bubbling through me. I felt powerless in a way I hadn’t for a while. All the progress I’d made, all the lessons I’d learned and the power I’d accrued, and still Chompers had outwitted me.

Things weren’t as simple as I thought. I could get a way to bust down the door, but I’d still have to _get_ to the door and that would be hard as hell because my opponent was smart. Something I think I’d started to forget after Chompers had lulled me into a false sense of security.

 _You’ve gotta be smart about this,_ I thought. _So what’s the smart thing to do?_

Get information, as much as I could to bind the threats that would be in my way. I would have to be prepared to fight them and I’d have to lean on others for help because I didn’t think I could take care of those threats on my own. Which meant taking the initiative and talking to people without being pulled into it.

I had to finish the work I was doing on the hallow, on the door buster.

_Just because I’m angry, it doesn’t mean I have to forget that I have a plan._

I remembered what Dennis had said while we’d been walking through the Friend’s road. I’d made my mistake and I had to learn from it. There was nothing now but to move forward.

Getting angry right here and now would be playing into Chompers’ hand, and I couldn’t give him that satisfaction.

 _But I can take off that smile off his face,_ I thought. _Even if it isn’t going to mean much._

“The key to the Alabaster,” I said. “Where is it stored?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Who did you give the key to?” I asked.

Chompers smiled. “A Practitioner by the name of Krieg,” said Chompers. “A Practitioner who is no longer in Brockton Bay.”

 _You never intended for me to win,_ I thought. _All of this was rigged from the start. You wanted to give me something to do so that I don’t focus on you and draining you dry, or making you easily bound._

I consoled myself in him not knowing that I had another way, that the key hadn’t even really been a factor in my plans.

“How do _you_ get into the Alabaster’s sanctuary?” I asked.

“I’m connected to her,” he said. “It’s easy to slip in even with the door locked.”

 _Then my plan can still work,_ I thought desperately.

But there was still a lot to do and there was significantly less time to do it in.

“We’re heading back,” I said. Chompers giggled in the most grating way possible. “Stop that.”

And he did.

When we got home, I added a third layer to the circles around him, nothing fancy, just a circle that would block out all sound from getting into the circle. It was midnight when I was done with the circle, and I didn’t go to bed, instead I visited Elwin to get my training in.

The sooner I had the hallow, the better and stronger I’d feel.

 _Don’t forget about allies,_ a part of me thought and as much as I dreaded the possibility, I would have to go out there and get help.

Thankfully, the meeting with the Practitioners and Others of Brockton Bay were going to make an appearance at the meeting that night. The perfect time to talk to people.

_Why is that the part I dread the most?_

I pushed the thought aside as Elwin and I dashed through the trees.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was looked over by Juff over on the Cauldron discord. His work is really appreciated.

The Brookfield Conference centre was one of the most prestigious buildings in Brockton Bay. It was a place frequented by the elites of Brockton Bay; benefits for mayors, police commissioners or district attorney candidates were often held here. The building had the sort of architecture that made it look distinct — _cultured —_ when most of the buildings around it were tall, monotone and mostly filled with windows. When I looked at the building with the Sight, there was the general shine of attention, of _importance_ seeped into its very walls. It added to the intimidation factor in standing before its doors dressed in jeans, a roomy hoodie and carrying a well-worn backpack.

 _I belong here,_ I thought as I let out a breath. Another in, I held it and then let it out again. I started up the stairs and into the front doors of the place.

There was a man behind the desk, young, bored and his attention on something I couldn’t see.

 _“He’s like me,”_ Amber whispered, and when I took him in with the Sight I could see that he was a spirit. He wasn’t filled in like people were; he was a being that existed as something without hard edges.

“Excuse me,” I said. He looked up. “Can you point me to the restroom?”

He pointed.

I found the bathroom, got into a stall and started to change into my gear. Coat on, my sleeve and glove, then my chain, which I packed with heat. I holstered my stick and then shrugged on my backpack, which was lighter without all the stuff that had been in it.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The coat hid my body, falling straight until it hit the ground. As I turned, even the lump of my backpack wasn’t visible. I took myself in and couldn’t help but agree with something Dennis and Eric had said a while ago — I would look much cooler with a mask with horns.

Walking out of the bathroom, I went through a set of doors that didn’t take me into the conference centre itself, instead finding myself in a space that served as a foyer, tables placed out along the walls, all with different types of foods and drinks.

I’d come here thirty minutes early thinking I’d be early, but I wasn’t.

I saw a man I didn’t recognise, tall and broad shouldered, with brown hair and a neatly cut beard. To the Sight he was wrapped in diagrams, so many that I couldn’t take them in individually, but they moved and shifted, an entrancing network that I could watch for hours without getting bored.

“Enough!” the man intoned and I jumped.

“She got lost?” Chris said.

The man hummed. “I suggest you don’t look at me with the Sight,” he said. “I have protections.”

“Her eyes are always open,” said Chris. “I thought she specialised in the Sight, but…” He shrugged. “Sorry, Colin, this is Taylor, she’s the one who gave me the info on the Garden Route. Taylor, Colin, my mentor.”

“Hello,” I said.

Colin nodded. “Sammie mentioned you,” he said. “You were attacked by an Other?”

“Yeah,” I said and I felt a little embarrassed about the incident.

“Have you made the same mistake again?” he asked.

“Not the same mistake,” I said.

“Good,” he said. “There’s food. Eat as much as you like. Taking some home is acceptable, but don’t thank or show thanks for the food in any way.”

“Brownies,” Chris explained. “If you break their rules, they can break the truce without recompense.”

“Without _much_ recompense,” said Colin. “Pay attention to your phrasing.” Chris nodded. “I’ll be inside making final checks. You’re free to stay with your friend...?”

Chris shrugged.

Colin left.

“Good thing you came in because checking systems is _very_ boring,” said Chris. He walked over to a table with some juice and poured himself some. “How have things been? I heard that there was an attack at your school.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Tammi the Nazi sent a ghost to me and it was sent back. It caused an incident.”

All the food looked fantastic but I wasn’t really hungry. I just looked it over, letting my eyes rove over the large space, the detailing on the corners of the wall and the fact that there was a very expensive looking chandelier at the centre of the room.

 _Really_ fancy.

“Have they come after you or anything?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I’ve been home mostly,” I said. “How have things been going with the Friend? It’s been a while and I don’t know if the Woman in Red’s been helped out yet.”

“Soon,” said Chris. “Right now things are being set up. We’ve found full instructions on the Old Town Road and people are taking them in, but we’ve got some people who are practising with the Falling Oak Avenue. Abstract plan is that they’re just going to grab the Woman in Red and then escape through Falling Oaks.”

“Will that work?” I asked.

“A lot of this is trial and error, so…” he trailed off as the door opened and in stepped a dark-haired woman with olive toned skin. She was dressed in jeans, a t-shirt and a jacket, but beneath the jacket, holstered, was a knife. “Hey, Hannah.”

“Hello, Chris,” she said with a smile. “Colin?”

“Inside.”

“Thank you,” she said. She smiled at me as she passed.

“She’s old money, right?” I said.

“That’s complicated,” he said. “And I don’t want to divulge.”

“Okay,” I said. A web connected to me and flared a moment before the door opened. Mr Calvert stepped in. He was dressed in a black suit, black shirt and a white tie. Silas was wrapped around his neck, skin black against white that matched Mr Calvert’s. His eyes met mine.

_Am I supposed to ignore you and pretend we don’t know each other? How am I supposed to do that when everyone here can see connections?_

“Taylor,” he said. “Good, you’re already here. Come, it’s better we’re inside.”

“See you,” I said.

“Sure,” said Chris, his expression one of confusion.

I followed after Mr Calvert into the main hall. It was separated into four sets of seats, at the bottom of which was a stage, above which was a screen. Mr Calvert and I descended, with webs from Colin and Hannah connected to us the entire way, as we walked to the front seats of the leftmost section.

We sat.

“Should we be seen together?” I asked. “I thought you being my mentor was a secret.”

“Secrets can only remain hidden so long,” he said. “I told you that I wanted you to get a sense of the greater workings of the Bay, and that involves introducing you to the most important figures.”

“They’re the leaders of the Protectorate?” I asked, with a look at Colin and Hannah who were talking on the stage.

Mr Calvert reached into his pocket and pulled out a playing card with a complicated diagram. He pressed his finger onto it and the webs around us grew loose. Colin and Hannah didn’t seem to notice.

“Head and Deputy Head,” said Mr Calvert. “I’ll try not to say their names for fear that they might focus on us, but context should make things clear.” I nodded. _“He_ is an Astrologer of sorts, but he doesn’t use stars as a form of power, instead using traffic and the movement of people.”

“I don’t know what an Astrologer is,” I said.

He looked at me. “I thought you spent time with our Astrologer’s apprentice,” he said.

“Chris? I did,” I said.

“Did you happen to see him do magic?”

“I did,” I said as I thought about what I’d seen Chris do.

He’d moved electricity through lights, some of which had had lines of power, all to make an archer of light. I thought maybe I could extrapolate, even if it was abstract. Maybe how people moved was the electricity and that could be used to form images?

“How does that work?” I asked. “Moving people around?”

“Traffic lights,” said Mr Calvert. “He and his people control them, shifting how traffic moves. He’s part of the reason that Brockton Bay hasn’t shifted to automated systems.”

I nodded.

“The deputy is an interesting woman,” he continued. “Her family practised in the most nefarious of Others: _demons.”_

“Like the Endbringers?” I said.

“Nothing so large,” he said. “And they weren’t established, her family that is, and they ended themselves quickly and violently, which is perhaps the reason the woman herself isn’t as tainted as she otherwise would be. She’s made much of herself, treaded the line well so people don’t fear her or some of the morsels of knowledge she knows.”

“Because the stuff she knows is dangerous?”

Mr Calvert nodded.

“Are you trying to get me to not trust her?” I asked, because now more than ever I felt cult vibes from him.

Mr Calvert frowned. “That’s complicated,” he said. “I’m building towards something that’ll hopefully be made clear soon. But before that can be done, I hope a few pieces might slot into place.”

“That’s a worrying thing to say,” I said.

“You _should_ be worried,” he said. “We live in tumultuous times.” Mr Calvert glanced at his clock. “People should be beginning to arrive in earnest.”

As he finished his words the door at the back opened. I had to crane my neck to see before I had the idea to use the Sight to help the process. It was Sophia; she scanned the room and her eyes found me. She walked to our set of chairs, came down, but sat near the middle rather than come up front. I _felt_ her eyes on the back of my head even as I ignored her.

“You and Ms Hess are friends?” Mr Calvert said.

I snorted. “No,” I said. “We just go to the same school.”

“I see the link between the two of you,” he said. “It’s quite strong.”

“Hate is a strong emotion,” I muttered, darkly.

Mr Calvert chuckled, which I didn’t entirely understand.

A family walked in and I recognised them from television: the Stansfields. They came in as a group, a family of five, a mother, father, two sisters and Dean as the youngest. They dressed like people who were used to money, expensive clothes but without brand names attached. It would have been easy to pass them in the streets and not know who they were.

Dean’s father, I noticed, had a thin sword at his side, a lot like a fencing sword.

“The Stansfield family,” said Mr Calvert. A web flared and a few of them turned in our direction, but their attention quickly waned. “One of the oldest families in the Bay, perhaps the founders of this place, in the context of history books of course, because reality is another matter entirely. The most influential family, though they don’t hold the position of Lord of the city.”

“Old money,” I said.

“Metaphorically speaking, yes,” said Mr Calvert. “Their words have weight. The lands they hold are so tied to them that the universe finds it easier to give them wealth than to take that away.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” I said.

“They faced a rough patch where they lost their affluence,” he said. “Bad investments. They would have had to sell their property to stay afloat, but because said property has always been demesnes of their kin, the universe saw it better to nudge wealth their way than to do the harder task of finding a way to strip them of that claim.”

The Stansfield family sat in one of the centre sets of seats, and they sat so there was a set between us and them. They sat up front, and the way they sat made me think they sat by power structure, with Dean sitting before his sisters.

“Such is the way of things,” Mr Calvert continued. “There is momentum to these things, grooves that the universe seeks to hold onto because it is what _was.”_

“The status quo,” I said.

He hummed. “A hard thing to move to any degree,” he said. “Many people think the status quo can be nudged gently into a new path, but that’s often rarely the case. You push, but things have a way of pushing back.”

“Was what happened to the Stansfield a push?” I asked. “Someone trying to take their wealth?”

“If my history is correct, yes,” said Mr Calvert. “If I remember correctly, the position of Lord had opened up and the Stansfield family stood against said potential lord. They were attacked, nothing too violently, better thought of as a nudge; the potential lord had an eye for the long term and he thought he might be opening up channels for success in the future. But, as is the way with the world, the status quo reasserted itself.”

 _Lessons you’ve taught yourself?_ I thought.

Next to come in was New Wave and I put faces to names. Pelham Mom, Pelham Dad and Crystal Pelham. There was something different about Victoria. When I looked at her with the Sight, she seemed to have a layer over her skin, as if she wore something I could only see through a shimmer. The thing, whatever it was, looked similar to what Pelham Dad wore, which looked almost like a forcefield that coursed with light patterns.

New Wave sat at the centremost set of seats, behind the Stansfields.

“What about them?” I asked.

“I think you’ve met them, you know enough,” he said. “They’re largely dabblers, that is to say, they don’t practise anything to a strict degree and I don’t think they have a practice that’s distinct to them. In the past they were poised to fight against the status quo, to unravel it to usher in a brighter future. It was their plan to systematically strip the old families of their power before taking over. They succeeded with the Lavere family, former lords of the city, but before they could catch their breath and attack once more, the Anders family took one of them.

“It caused a fissure — the sisters have a brother, and after his first wife died, he left the Bay, travelled, before he found kinship to the Duchamp family. Now they’ve lost their ambitions. Sarah Pelham, last I’d heard, was trying to coax spirits to become a Pegasus.”

“That can happen?” I asked.

“Winged horses exist,” he said. “Most were made by gods, but perhaps the spirits, guided a certain way, can do the same thing? Who knows for sure?”

 _I’m getting distracted,_ I thought, and I pushed my mind away from the flying horse to what Mr Calvert had said, the picture he was painting with his words. There was a status quo and everyone who tried to go against it suffered.

I thought about the man Sophia had led me to, the man who’d tried to stand against the Nazi, and how he’d been ravaged by the attempt at a better world.

“Is there a way to change things?” I asked Mr Calvert. “It feels like you’re telling me people try all these things and they all fail.”

“There is,” he said, “but it is never pretty and it is never clean.”

“Violence,” I said.

“More often than not,” said Mr Calvert. “It’s an oft forgotten thing, but all people who’ve sought to free themselves from persecution have had to _fight._ The great lie we tell ourselves is that these great shifts were granted through peaceful talks, that there was no violence. But, at least from all I’ve seen, all I’ve gathered, the talks came about because the violence reached the point where it wasn’t being experienced by only one side.”

I swallowed. “What you’re saying is terrifying,” I said, my words a whisper.

“Yes,” said Mr Calvert.

A man stepped through, dressed in armour that looked Greek, all of which glowed with golden light. Beside him was a boy, dark haired, and who looked at everything with excited eyes. He said something to the man in bright armour, and the man nodded. The boy ran down the stairs to sit next to Eric.

The man himself went to sit in the centre section with everyone else, though he kept away from the Stansfield family. Hannah dropped down from the stage to sit near the man. Colin stayed on the stage fiddling with a microphone.

“Dauntless,” said Mr Calvert. The man didn’t turn but the web between him and us flared. “He’s a blood mage and a powerful one. He doesn’t come from a line, but how he imparts power has allowed him to greatly empower the clothes he wears.”

“Clothes?” I asked.

“Look with your eyes,” he said to me.

I pulled back my Sight and still saw him in golden light. I closed my eyes and rubbed them, then reopened them. It was still the same thing.

Mr Calvert hummed. “I think you’ve kept your eyes open so long they can’t truly close,” he said.

“Is that bad?”

“It means there are some things you might not be able to see,” he said. “Tell me when you next change your prescriptions, we can make it so your glasses allow you to close your eyes. Or perhaps we can make a separate set of glasses or something to that effect? Ones you’ll use in moments you want your eyes closed.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “Can you tell me what I’m not seeing.”

“When your eyes are closed to the Sight, you see that what he’s wearing seems mundane,” said Mr Calvert. “Pieces of metal strapped to clothing in a design. I don’t doubt many who are unaware would think him crazy if they saw him in his getup.”

“He’s with the Protectorate, right?” I asked.

Mr Calvert nodded. “All I’ve heard says he’s primed to become the head of the Protectorate soon,” he said. “The current head is quite a powerful man, but his power base is clunky and needs _time._ Dauntless, though not as powerful, is more able to expand that power in more useful ways.”

“What happens to the current head when that happens?” I asked.

“He can stay, or go elsewhere,” said Mr Calvert. “But the head’s practice makes it _very_ hard for him to move all his equipment.”

The group that came in next was large and all of them were white, which made it obvious who they were. There were thirteen of them in all, and Tammi the Nazi, Hookwolf, Cricket and Stormtiger were a part of their group. The leader seemed to be a man dressed head to tail in a suit of armour, and as ridiculous as it looked, he was straight backed and hard faced.

There were two women in the group, also dressed in armour, though theirs was scanty in the way armour for women in movies often was.

There were two sets of seats that were at the centre; one had already been filled by the Stansfield family, New Wave and Dauntless. The other was the one closest to us. The Nazis arrayed themselves in those seats, spreading out to ensure there was room between them, all while Max Anders moved to sit at the front, a boy beside him.

“The Nazis,” said Mr Calvert. A web flared.

“Is any one of them Krieg?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Mr Calvert. “The man dressed in a suit, wearing a cloth mask.”

The mask the man wore looked like the face of a scarecrow, with its mouth a zipper that had been pulled shut. When I looked at him with the sight I saw only a hazy outline.

“Is the albino man the Alabaster of Brockton Bay?” I asked.

Mr Calvert nodded.

Krieg had come back to town, unknown by Chompers, but I didn’t think I’d be able to get the key into the Alabaster’s sanctuary, not when there were _so_ many people from the Nazis and when they looked like they might be powerful.

“Their leader hails Vulcan and many in their number claim their power from the Roman gods,” he said. “The twins, his bodyguards, hail the war gods, Minerva and Mars. You’ll find smatterings of patronage in some, though others have tried to branch out. I know one of them has a spirit that’s adroit at stealing things.”

“Them having an Alabaster must be a bitch,” I said.

“It is,” said Mr Calvert, an edge of interest in his voice. “Alabasters have good eyes for trouble.” He frowned. “But you already knew that.”

“Can you remind me to talk to you about something?” I said. “I…I’ve been thinking a lot, about the systems that persist and a part I can play in it. I think I might have a way to make things better, but I’ll need help.”

_If I’m right about you, then you want the same thing._

“You have only to ask,” he said.

The Undersiders were next to step in. Rachel had brought a few ‘dogs’ with her, all bound in chains. They walked to our row of chairs, but they didn’t come close to us, sitting themselves away from Sophia.

A young girl came in and she walked over to New Wave where she sat with Victoria. Mr Calvert told me her name was Missy, one of the youngsters of the Wards, a girl who’d befriend a fledgling Incarnation of paths; then it was Rory Christner, the Mayor’s son, and he had in his company a young girl.

“Dinah,” said Mr Calvert. “She faced emotional distress harsh enough that a part of her was torn off. There was an omen near her as happens with these things, she became a partial hallow and the spirit inhabited her. Now it whispers to her of ill futures.”

“Poor girl,” I said.

They sat with the Stansfields.

Two police officers came in together, Officer Williams and a man dressed in blue, pale skinned with red cheeks, a bushy moustache and a large pot belly. The two split off, with Officer Williams going to sit beside Dauntless and Hannah. The Man in Blue, while he sat with the Stansfield group, still put himself away from the Protectorate Practitioners and only a row away from the Nazis.

Chris finally stepped in with Dennis and the two sat near New Wave.

A pair of guys, one black and the other white, came in and sat near the back of our group of chairs. They were Jerome and Martin.

Others started to arrive about the same time — ghosts and spectres, people and goblins of varying sizes, and other things, much scarier things. They spread about seemingly at random, though most chose not to sit at all, and instead found places to stand. A few could fly and found places on the rafters. A woman with a flock of sheep walked in, sat on the back of one of her sheep.

Elwin and Cyneweard stepped into the room from a door I hadn’t noticed before, leaves finding the air after them.

For a moment there was silence as everyone watched them, but when they didn’t move, small thrums of conversations continued.

“What’s that about?” I asked.

“If the elves favour you, then you must have some importance in their future plots,” said Mr Calvert. “It would mean that you have their weight behind your words, which is a security in some ways.”

“Like that they’re not choosing sides?” I asked.

He nodded.

Two Asian men and a woman, followed by a string of Others, were the next to step through. I didn’t need to be pointed to which of them was Kenta because I could _see._ The man was tall, but he wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; I could imagine just passing him in the street without occasion. He wore jeans and a shirt that was too tight, and a tattoo that snuck out at his neck.

But when I looked at him with the Sight, I saw _Lung,_ a massive serpentine dragon with brown-gold scaling and a shock of red hair, which wound around Kenta, hiding him in its embrace. The dragon was asleep against the man, but puffs of smoke escaped its nose with every breath out.

_And I thought Sabah’s bear was scary._

He sat on the right most set of chairs along with the man and woman, as well as the Others drawn to him.

“Are they the only Asian Practitioners in the Bay?” I asked.

“No,” said Mr Calvert, “but people learn to hide well or they’ll be drawn in by Kenta. Most Practitioners don’t go out looking for trouble; they like their small practises, and he often demands too much.”

“What are their deals?” I asked.

“Kenta has the eternal threat of the dragon on his shoulder,” said Mr Calvert. “If you go against him, you always fear that you might jostle the dragon awake, at which point he’ll point it at you, and it’s quite hard to defeat dragons. The others… Kenji is quite adept at dolls, almost life-like, I’ve been told. The woman, I don’t know much about her.”

He sounded like that part grated.

The last dregs of people and Others started to come in, amongst them Sabah and her partner Ashraqat. Sabah sat at the back most seat of the Stansfield section, while Ashraqat stood with the elves in low conversation. Ashraqat looked a lot like an elf, tall and statuesque, with sharp ears and eyes; her skin was a dark navy and there were swirling patterns carved in. Her hair was black, but it moved like smoke and her eyes burned with fire.

A woman, Kayden, entered and she sat behind the Nazis. A few other people entered, but Mr Calvert said they were inconsequential to the greater running of the city.

“We’re almost set to begin,” said Mr Calvert after a glance at his watch. “Palanquin,” he said as a group walked in. “Finders who focus less on objects than on the strange phenomena of people-spirit hybrids.”

“Things like Hookwolf’s people?” I asked.

“Funnily enough, no,” said Mr Calvert. “Hookwolf is an Other, with the practice closed off to him, but the people Palanquin finds are something else, with some abilities that Others have, and yet still human enough they can awaken and practice.”

Two of the five had the bodies of Others, but when I looked at them with the sight they reminded me of Blesk and how he’d looked human underneath it all. Newter had orange skin and a tail, while Gregor was fat and pale, bald and with spirals over his skin; beneath, one was a teenage with sun-kissed skin, and the other was a man who, though he was overweight, looked normal, with bleached blond hair and grey eyes.

The group, without a lot of place to sit, chose to sit in Kenta’s section at the back, away from the plethora of Others.

Another group stepped through, seven men strong, one of them a girl with mouths visible where there was skin, though she looked human when looked at deeply with the Sight. They looked around, shared words between them, with the girl with the mouths having the final word, then chose to hang back instead of finding a place to sit.

I noticed a strong web of attention from them to the Palanquin group.

It was a minute later that the doors violently opened and in came a rush of wind. Carlos was the second person to step in behind a woman a few years older than him, and behind him were three others, one Carlos’ age and the others younger. They sat on the Stansfield row of chairs but they didn’t sit _with_ anyone.

“Intriguing,” said Mr Calvert. “Perhaps one more, then our arrivals are done and we’ll begin.”

A man was next to step through. It was hard to pin down his race — his skin was the colour of cinnamon, though it was blistered like he’d been in the sun too long. He looked like he’d seen better days; he was thin, but wore layers that made him seem bigger, with a few patches on his clothes that seemed wet, and he carried in his hands a bottle that was half filled with alcohol. He had shaggy hair and a shaggier beard, and his eyes were narrowed as they took the room in.

He slowly walked through the seats to the bottom, which got everyone’s attention, then he walked to our set of seats. He climbed a little, then shuffled into the row of seats behind me. He kept shuffling until he sat behind me, the stink of sweat, alcohol and the salty sea coming from him.

I felt a lot of webs connect to me.

I looked at Mr Calvert.

He had on a smile.


	20. Chapter 20

Mr Calvert wasn’t offering an explanation so I had to think there was a reason why. At the beginning of our conversation he’d drawn a diagram that had given us privacy; with the network of webs spread around us, all taut and bright, the diagram must have faded.

_He’s why you took me as an apprentice, isn’t it?_

But the realisation didn’t complete the picture. Not when there were so many gaps. I knew that Mr Calvert wanted to run the Bay, but I didn’t know him well enough to guess how he’d do that, and my part in his plans. 

“Everyone who was set on arriving tonight has arrived,” said Colin. The words helped to pull some of the attention away from me. A relieved breath left me and I settled back into my seat. “I therefore call this gathering into session. First matter of business, we have a few new faces. It’s customary, though not an obligation, to make introductions. I’ll leave you the floor.”

I looked at Mr Calvert. “Will I have to go up there?” I asked. “Some people already know who I am.”

“That would be different from this,” he said. “In introducing yourself you would be _known_. It’s not too dissimilar to the Awakening ritual, where you introduce yourself to the spirits and your words gain a certain weight.”

“What’s the power?” I asked. “The advantage?”

“Allies or enemies,” he said. “Others may know you, know your relationships, and they may be less or more likely to attack you knowing the attention it could get them.”

“Do you think I should do it?” I asked.

“I think you should do what you think is best,” he said.

“What about your plans?” I asked. “Your plans for _me?”_

Mr Calvert’s eyes flickered to the man behind me. “Introducing yourself doesn’t matter in the grand scheme,” he said. “What do you think you should do?”

I frowned and thought on it as the first group reached the stairs. Carlos’s group. There were five in total, two women and three guys, with the oldest woman in the lead.

The woman spoke. “I’m not new,” she said, her voice strong and her eyes set in a scowl, “but for our new arrivals I’ll reintroduce myself. I’m Arianna Alvarez. Here with me are my brothers, Carlos and Alejandro, as well as our cousins, Valentina and Lautaro. We came onto this stage because this is a declaration to all who sit here, that the Alvarez family calls Brockton Bay its home and we’re going to be a circle in this city.”

Her face still set in a scowl, Arianna had only eyes for the Nazis. They didn’t say anything. Arianna and her family returned to their seats.

“Will they get trouble for that?” I asked in a whisper.

“There are no circles or covens in this city made up predominantly of persons of colour,” said Mr Calvert, which was answer enough.

 _Someone has to do something about them,_ I thought. _We should all be doing something about them. They’re not a problem that should be ignored._

But it felt like such a big problem, and it was hard to even think about a way to start going about fixing it. Unless…

Sophia wasn’t paying as much attention to me as before, but I could still feel how taut her web was. I thought about the man she’d taken me to, and how he’d tried to work against the Nazis only to be defeated. The Alabaster seemed to play a part in why the E88 was so powerful. The man, whose name I hadn’t thought to ask, had tried to use Chompers’s Alabaster towards those ends, one powerful spirit against another. Could I do the same?

The unknown group made up of the girl with the mouths reached the stage. It wasn’t all of them who went up front, only three: two guys and a girl. The rest stayed back, probably so they wouldn’t leave the girl with the wheelchair behind. The conference centre wasn’t wheelchair accessible.

Mouth Girl was in the lead and she took the mic.

“I’m Noelle, leader of the Travellers,” she said. “We’re nomads who practise a variety of magics. Our usual M.O is staying a short while in a city before moving on.”

“Our _usual_ M.O?” I whispered to Mr Calvert.

“If you’ve caught it, then the rest have too,” he said. “Quite interesting isn’t it?”

He seemed to calm.

I looked with the Sight, and there were webs from the group to everyone. I couldn’t read a lot into webs, but I could tell bits of information. Looking at the connection between Mr Calvert and the group, I saw that it was thicker than everyone else’s. They weren’t strangers to him.

 _There’s so much that’s been going on here,_ I thought, _and it feels like it’s starting to come to a head._

The group left the stage.

“This is your moment,” said Mr Calvert. “You can stay on the sidelines if you so please or you can take the forefront.”

“I want things to change,” I said. “There’s a lot of shitty things happening and I want them to stop. I want Brockton Bay to get better.”

“Some are able to do that from the shadows,” he said. “But I don’t think you would be able to. You haven’t established such a rapport with the spirits, small or otherwise, nor the major players in the Bay. Things are about to change, for good or ill; now would be the best moment to achieve that.”

 _I have to remember why I’m here. I want to save the Alabaster. I don’t know_ how, _but I eventually want that to lead to the Alabaster of Brockton Bay being knocked out of his seat of power, so he doesn’t keep drawing people in, so that Brockton Bay has the chance at getting better._

_Introducing myself can help me with that._

I let out a breath and stood.

“I officially grant you permission to disclose me as your mentor,” he said as I left.

It wasn’t a long walk to the stage, but a weight settled on me as I noticed everyone looking at me, that people were muttering and it was most likely about me.

A web flickered and I looked towards its end. Lisa was there; she smiled and gave me a thumbs up. Another web flared and it was Victoria; I didn’t see anything negative radiating from it.

Them being there gave me some strength.

I reached the stage and the mic.

A breath out.

“I’m Taylor Hebert,” I said. “A relatively new Practitioner, a dabbler and the apprentice of Thomas Calvert.”

The web between me and Mr Calvert flared. It had always been there, a testament of our relationship, but it had been loose, liable to get blown away by the metaphysical wind. As the words were said, the connection grew straight and taut.

 _I’ve bound myself with you in a way, haven’t I?_ I thought. _Your goals have become sort of mine._

It was scary to think about that when I still didn’t know who Mr Calvert was as a person and how he’d go about reaching his goals, no matter how benevolent they might seem.

_But this is for the Bay and everyone who lives here._

It felt like I should say more, as if I should say something better. I swallowed.

“My first major act in magic was solving a small issue,” I said. “A goblin that was attacking my school. I helped to figure out some stuff about a threat that’s biggish. I think that’s what I’m going to do. Fix the problems that I see in this city.”

It felt right, putting into stone thoughts that had been rolling around in the back of my mind for a while. If Mr Calvert was right, then this introduction would mean certain Practitioners and Others would drift in my direction. Hopefully it would be for the best.

“Introductions done,” said Colin as I reached my chair. The walk felt shorter on the way back than it had when I’d been walking to the mic. “We’ll move onto business. The first is a matter at Winslow, between Sophia Hess and Tammi Wright. As I’m to understand the matter, a ghost belonging to Tammi Wright attacked children before it was successfully bound. The damage wrought was large and it has caused an increase in violence perpetrated by Empire Eighty-Eight at Winslow.”

“As if the Nazis need an excuse,” Sophia said; it was not a shout, but her voice still carried across the hall.

Why had we needed to go to the stage if we could speak from our seats and still be heard?

I turned to see her leaned back in her seat, her feet on the chair in front of her. I hadn’t noticed before, but her fox was with her.

“Be that as it may,” said Colin. “Magic in schools is not to be used in a way that could hurt innocents—”

“Except in self-defence,” Sophia cut in, “or to stand your ground. I was having a conversation and she sent that fucked-up ghost of hers to me. I sent it back.”

“You could have bound it instead of sending it against her,” said Colin.

“Funny how I have to be the one to go to all the trouble,” she said. “You’re not telling her she shouldn’t have sent the ghost to me, and we all fucking know what type of ghosts the Nazis have.”

“We’re the _Empire,”_ said Hookwolf, his voice like metal rubbing against metal. “Get it the fuck right.”

“Fuck that,” said Sophia. “Nazi fits. I’m not gonna whitewash your shit or let you decide how you present it.”

Hookwolf let out a grumble of laughter, low and wide reaching.

_What the fuck are you doing, Sophia?_

“There was a witness,” said Tammi. “Hebert. She was a witness, she can tell you who the aggressor was.”

“Can you, Miss Hebert?” Colin asked.

Suddenly there were a lot of webs on me and it felt important. I looked at the Nazis; most were focused ahead, but there were some who were looking at me. The boy beside Max Anders was one, the Alabaster another, and the last was Hookwolf’s group, which made it feel like a threat, as though there was only one thing I was supposed to say.

“Tammi the Nazi was,” I said. Mr Calvert chuckled. It took me a second before I realised that I’d verbalised the title I’d given Tammi in my head. I pushed that aside and focused on the argument. “She sent an Other against us and we had no way of knowing its or her intentions. Sophia’s black and Tammi believes I’m Jewish. She’s a Nazi and those are who the Nazis target. Not to mention that the ghost radiated emotions. I think that happened before Sophia sent it back.”

“You think?” said Colin.

“Yeah,” I said with a shrug. “I can’t remember that day clearly. I was doing more important stuff that day.”

Colin nodded. He looked towards Tammi. “It would seem, intentionally or unintentionally, you were the aggressor in this case—”

“We’ll take care of her punishment,” said Max Anders.

“There would need to be additional compromises on your end,” said Colin. “There is the matter of the Goblins in the Trainyard; we would like your assistance in its resolution.”

Max Anders nodded. “You’ll have it,” he said.

“The next issue, the conflict between the ABB and E88,” said Colin. “Magic, it seems, is being used in such a way that it’s starting to harm the city. Buildings burnt, people hurt and killed—”

“That’s the price of war,” said Kenta.

“Wars can be dignified,” said Colin.

“Then you haven’t been part of war,” Kenta responded. “There will be mess until the matter is resolved.”

“We’re perfectly willing to abide by any mandates given out by the Protectorate,” said Max Anders. “Allowing, of course, that Kenta and his circle do the same.”

Kenta snorted. “You’re not as clever as you think,” he said. “We all see through you.”

“But the bait is very juicy,” Mr Calvert whispered to me.

“Perhaps it would be in everyone’s best interest if this matter was discussed cordially,” said Mr Stansfield. “The Merchants no longer exist in their previous incarnation and their territory can be split neatly in half, accords reached—”

“I’d like to remind everyone present that if such a thing were to happen the _Nazis_ would be more powerful,” said Mr Calvert. “For all that I think Kenta and that dragon wrapped around him are dangerous, we should not forget who and what the Nazis are. They present an existential threat. Their power comes at the price of everyone else who has even the smallest difference to them. Kenta, on the other hand, is only a criminal.”

The dragon snorted. It hadn’t awoken, but above Kenta was a plume of smoke. Others near them reacted, standing and going to the back of their set of seats. Practitioners stopped for a moment to watch the dragon.

Mr Stansfield continued, “You’d rather war?”

“I’d rather we work towards true peace instead of the negative peace you and the Protectorate seem to want,” said Mr Calvert.

“People will get hurt,” said Mr Stansfield.

“People are hurting,” said Mr Calvert. “That isn’t going to stop because of your negative peace.”

“Will you say that a third time, Calvert, for advantage?” said Max Anders.

“Combo break,” I heard behind me. I turned and saw a grinning Alec.

“Yes,” Mr Calvert admitted with humour. He stood and walked up to the stage. Colin stepped back but didn’t walk away. Mr Calvert reached the mic. “Negative peace doesn’t help us. The status quo doesn’t help us. The keepers of the status quo don’t help us. The Protectorate has failed people who look like me, people who aren’t already in positions of power, the marginalised and the ostracised. They are afraid of the uncertainty which comes next, more worried about the monsters that go bump in the night than the monsters who smile to our faces while making life harder. It is for this reason that I officially make my bid to become Lord of Brockton Bay.”

“Brockton Bay already has people who preside over it,” said Colin.

“Yes,” said Mr Calvert. “It would seem I’m making an official challenge. I wonder how much you can bring to bear in protecting your own power.”

And with those words Mr Calvert left the stage, having sowed discord.

Colin’s eyes were hard, but he continued with the meeting nonetheless; there were other matters that needed to be discussed and just because Mr Calvert had made his declaration didn’t mean things had stopped.

***

“…which concludes our official gathering,” said Colin. “You’re free to leave.”

The Others were first to go, a rush of different bodies that left from three different doors, two of which I was sure hadn’t been there when we’d come in. The Practitioners lingered, standing and stretching, conversations starting between friends and allies; with a glance first at Mr Calvert, Mr Stansfield went over to Colin for a conversation.

“Can we talk?” I said. “Can I ask questions?”

“Can you ask who our friend is, you mean?” Mr Calvert asked. I nodded. “Would you like to introduce yourself?” Mr Calvert asked the man.

The man took a swig of his drink, wrapped in a soggy paper bag. “I’m the Spirit of the Docks,” he said, his voice hard and with a thick accent I couldn’t place. “Knew Samson and Harriet during the Prohibition. I was their inside man in moving stock to and from Boston. Josiah came to pray for us when he had to go out at sea, a devout man, a little too uptight but he loosened when he met Brianna. Dean carried me on the Ferry, nice fella, we were friends for a bit and went fishing together. When I fell on hard times he pointed me to Mable, and she pointed me to jobs that needed doing. Know Danny too, good man, helped me when I was laid off, fought for me even if it didn’t work out so well in the end. I’ve seen you, in the Docks. You and her,” he said with a flick at Sophia. “You’ve got your family’s knack.”

“Okay,” I said. Josiah was my great-grandfather and Brianna was my great-grandmother. I had to think that Samson and Harriet might have been their parents or at least relatives. “I think I get it. He’s connected to my family.”

“Not just your family, no,” said Mr Calvert. “There are a lot of families with ties to the Docks and thus ties to him. It’s just that your voice is louder since you Awakened.”

 _I’m only special because you made me special,_ I thought.

“I still don’t understand how I can help you.”

“He wants me on his side,” said the Spirit of the Docks. He took a swig, long and hard, some of the liquid spilling on his beard and dribbling across his shirt. He foisted the drink towards me.

“No,” I said.

He shrugged and wiped his mouth. “I don’t know him. I don’t trust him. He’s just like them,” said the Spirit of the Docks, with a glance at the Nazis and further still, the Stansfield and the Protectorate. “He’s too big and he’ll lose sight.”

“Close to a prophecy,” said Mr Calvert.

The Spirit of the Docks hummed.

“That’s a worry,” he said. “But even if I were to lose sight, it wouldn’t be as it is with them. They’re old, from old wealth and power. I’m new. I know what it is to roll in the muck without ever believing I would be able to rise up.”

“All well and good,” the Spirit muttered. “But will you pull people _up?_ I’ve known people who’ve struck gold. I know how easy it is to forget where you come from.”

“Oh, I’ll never forget where I came from,” said Mr Calvert, his voice taking on a hard cast. “Stand with me and the Docks will have new life. _You_ will have new life.”

“Mhmm,” he said. He stood. “Treat her right,” he said and he left.

“A hard fellow to talk to,” said Mr Calvert.

“Is that why you wanted me?” I asked. “Awakened me? So you could talk to him?”

“That and I thought our goals might align,” he answered.

I swallowed, a feeling of discomfort writhing in my stomach. I turned away from him and looked at the groups who were still leaving. There was only one door now where there had been three before. Kenta and his people had already gone and so had most of the Others, along with the woman with the sheep who was one of Chompers’ guards. The Nazis, who weren’t in conversation with anyone else, chose that moment to leave.

“What happens now?” I asked. “Between you and me? Between me and the Spirit of the Docks?”

“Not yet,” he said, “and not here. You said you had something you wanted to talk to me about. Let me drive you home and we’ll speak.”

“Um…can you give me a bit? There’s something that’s maybe time sensitive,” I said as I glanced at the Palanquin group. They were all on their feet and the only person who kept them from leaving was Victoria, who was talking to one of the women.

“Sure,” he said. “I have a few people to speak to.”

I passed the Undersiders as I ran up the aisle. Trevor had momentarily left them to go and chat with Eric and Dauntless’s boy. Lisa was in a conversation with Grue and I couldn’t hear a word of their conversation as I passed. I got to the top near the exit and walked across to reach Palanquin; the conversation between them and Victoria stopped as I arrived.

“Taylor,” said Victoria. She gave me a smile. “You’re Calvert’s apprentice?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sorry, but, can I have a moment of your time?”

“I won’t give you my time,” the woman said. “Say what you want to say.”

 _Rude,_ I thought, but after Elwin had used my apology I could understand why.

“I heard that you find people in the Paths,” I said. “People who have different forms.”

“I do,” she said.

“I found a person while walking the Garden Route,” I said. “He called himself Blesk and he’s like…he has a human body when you look at him with the Sight. He told me that he escaped from the place that turned him like that, that he wanted someone to help him. I didn’t believe him, I thought it might be an Other’s trick to get me to stray from the path, but…” I shrugged. “I don’t know. It seemed like he wanted help. Maybe you can give it to him.”

“When did this happen?” Victoria asked.

“A while back?” I said with a shrug. “I haven’t been keeping good track of time. Is it important?”

“A lot of people like us cannot remember,” said the big guy, in a thick accent that was maybe Russian. “I am Gregor.”

“Hello, Gregor,” I said.

“What’s the Path and how did you get into it?” the woman asked.

“The Garden Route,” I said. “You walk until you’re bored then ask for a road that’ll titillate the mind.”

“Hey,” said the boy who looked like a lizard. “It’s like the Long Walk on a Short Pier.” When I looked at him with the Sight he was my age, with dark skin, short curly hair, and eyes so dark they almost looked black. “I’m Newter by the way.”

He came forward and stretched out a hand.

I started to take it.

“Don’t do that,” said Gregor. “He has the magic of poisons coursing through him.”

“You were going to poison me?” I said.

“Probably give you a high,” he said.

“You mean you were going to roofie her?” Victoria said, accusatory.

“Wait? What? No, that’s not what was going to happen. Just sometimes my magic has a mind of its own. I try to tell it to go one way, high, rather than the other way, maybe death.”

“Why would you shake her hand?” Victoria asked. “If there’s a risk?” Newter’s expression twisted and his shoulders drooped. “Oh, fuck, I just realised what I’m saying. I’m—”

“Tell me a little about this Path,” said the leader of Palanquin.

“Surely you’re going to pay her for it,” said a voice behind us. The web suddenly snapped into being and I was surprised to find that Lisa had gotten close to us. I wasn’t the only one. “Everything has a price.”

“Lisa,” said the leader of Palanquin.

“Melanie,” Lisa said back. A dark cast flickered across Melanie’s expression. Lisa grinned. “You’re back and you have someone new, and they’ve already coupled up. Kinky.”

“Can you not, please?” said Victoria, her eyes on Newter, who’d retreated from the group. “The three of us would be the _best_ research group if you two got over your beef. All of us have notes, and if we can work together we’d be closer to solving all of this.”

“One of us is a pain to work with,” said Lisa.

“Yes,” said Melanie. “One of us is.” She turned to me. “Come to us with the information prepared and we’ll discuss Blesk—”

“Actually,” I said. “I already have an idea in mind. I’m working on a project and I’m going to need help. There’s some Others who are guarding something. I want people who’ll pick them off.”

“That’s a steep price for a measly amount of information,” said Melanie.

“Everything I’ve gotten about Paths so far tells me that they are very personal things,” said Victoria. “I’ve read the notes Taylor provided on the Garden Route and it’s presented itself in two different ways to her. It might be that the presentation that had this person might be something specific to Taylor. Which means you might need her to get in. I’m willing to give you some info Weld gave me to add to her price.”

“You were always going to give me that info,” said Melanie. “Not a very compelling addition if that’s the case.”

“She’s my friend,” said Victoria. “I know you can be a hard ass when you want to be. I don’t want her to get the raw end of the deal.”

“Fine,” said Melanie. “We’ll deal. Meet me at Palanquin when you’re free. We’ll discuss terms.”

“Th—” I stopped and nodded.

Melanie and her group left.

“This have anything to do with the A?” Victoria asked.

“Oh, you told her,” said Lisa. “Good, because I was wondering about the same thing.”

“Yeah, it does,” I said.

“What you’re doing sounds like a big deal,” said Victoria. “Being interested in an A. What’s that about?”

“I have to be very particular about what I say,” I said. “There’s some deals that I made that I have to think about. But I’m looking for a closed off place and hopefully if I can get in, I can free the A.”

Lisa whistled. “How did you get involved in something like that?”

“Chompers,” I said.

“The Bogeyman?” Victoria asked. I nodded. “How is there a connection?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I want in,” said Victoria. “Whatever it is.”

“You do?” I said.

She nodded. “I want to get more combative magic under my belt,” she said. “I’ve dealt with scary things, but it’s always been a controlled scary. That and I want to test out my new friend.”

“What is that?” I asked. “It looks like Pelham Dad has one too.”

“Pelham Dad?” Victoria said with a smile.

“It’s what I’ve been calling him in my head.”

“Do you also do that with Tammi the Nazi?” Lisa asked. I shrugged.

“I call her Tammi the Teenage Nazi in my head,” Victoria admitted.

“Imagine if we got it to stick,” said Lisa.

The web between me and Mr Calvert flared and I turned to look in his direction. He’d been talking to Carlos’s family and was now making his way into the foyer. A person whose form shifted like water, always so I couldn’t make out their body type, walked beside Mr Calvert. It might have been a trick of the light, but as they left, I caught the outline of a sledgehammer.

“So he’s the one who introduced you into the world, huh?” said Victoria.

“You know anything that I don’t?” I asked.

“I should be asking you that,” she said.

“I made promises.”

“I get it,” she said. “Good luck with all of this. If he’s your mentor, then you’re going to be in the thick of things whether you want it or not.”

“You too if you’re going to be part of the A mission,” said Lisa.

“So be it,” said Victoria. “Even if Calvert doesn’t win this, maybe it’ll be enough to knock some sense into how the Protectorate runs things.”

The web flared again.

“I have to go. I’ll call you?”

“Don’t need to,” said Victoria. “I’ll come by tomorrow, prep before we head over to Palanquin. This is an A, it’s _big_ and important. You’re going to have to be careful.”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” I said.

“I’ll help you,” said Victoria. Lisa smiled.

“Okay,” I said nodding to myself. “I’m going.”

“Bye,” said Lisa.

I left the building to see that Mr Calvert was already in his truck. I had a connection breaker on my bike as well as a strand of hair so I always had a connection to it. I ripped the piece of paper, then worked, _alone,_ to stow the bike on the back of Mr Calvert’s truck. I got into the passenger’s seat and let out a breath.

“You could have helped,” I said.

“My suit is _very_ expensive,” he said. Silas let out a wheezy laugh. Mr Calvert started his pickup and drove away. “I wonder if Colin will be petty and have us…it seems so,” he said as we reached the first set of traffic lights that turned red as we got close. “I predict traffic.”

“He didn’t defend himself back there,” I said.

“Colin isn’t one to put too much effort into political dealings,” said Mr Calvert. “He’ll wait, likely hoping either the Nazis or Kenta stand against me. If I win against them, he’ll choose to attack. If, of course, things are neat.”

“I guess you won’t try and make it neat?”

“I’ve already explained, I think,” he said. “The status quo is very hard to shake, and if it’s done gradually things will right themselves again. However, if there’s a shock to the system…”

“I get it,” I said. “At least I think I do.”

“You wanted to talk to me,” he said. “It seemed whatever it was, was important.”

“The thing I’m trying to do with Chompers,” I said. “It’s trying to free an Alabaster.”

“Ah,” he said. “How could a Bogeyman achieve such a thing?”

“I could explain,” I said. “But I made a deal with Chompers that I wouldn’t share information that could see him bound, at least while he’s still bound by me. What matters is that he has an Alabaster and I’m trying to free her.”

“I think I understand,” he said. “You’re hoping in freeing this Alabaster you’ll unseat the Alabaster of Brockton Bay.”

“That’s what I was hoping for, yeah,” I said. “Is it doable?”

“I really wish you could have shared this information much earlier,” he said, disappointed. The words stung.

“You haven’t really given me reason to trust you,” I said. “You’re the one who told me I was right to distrust you.”

“All true,” he said, “and yet I still wish you would have told me sooner. Alabasters have an eye for the future. I don’t know to what extent, but it isn’t out of the question to think that the Alabaster might have an idea of the threat you present.”

“Does that mean the Nazis will come after me?” I asked.

“They’ll try,” he said. “It seems my plans will have to be moved up. They’ll focus on me while you focus on resolving this matter, _successfully,_ I hope.”

I swallowed. “Pressure,” I said.

“Unfortunately, that’s the price of the stakes we’re playing at,” he said. “What help do you expect to need?”

“Numbers to deal with threats,” I said. “I already have a deal in the works with the Palanquin where they'll help me take out some guards around the place.”

“Good,” he said. “You’ll have the Undersiders as well. I’ll talk to them, make any payments that might be required.” He sighed again. “I really do wish you would have told me sooner, because then I might have said introducing yourself would have worked against us. But such is life; we can only work with the information we have.”

“What now?” I asked.

“Try and not worry about it,” he said. “The Nazis will be kept busy. But deal with matters as soon as possible. Try and keep control, that’ll be important. Make this _yours._ With your declaration at the meeting it will enrich your _self_ , and if it’s sufficiently tied to you, you'll be able to ask this Alabaster to stand with us against her brother.”

“Pressure,” I said again.

“Unfortunately,” he said. “You’ve done well so far, Taylor, I think you’ll continue to do well even here.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Juff on the Cauldron discord worked as beta on this and the next chapter. Thank you for his work. It's made the story better.

“I give you this gift with no repayment wanted nor expected,” said Elwin as he handed over a wooden bowl filled to the brim with a dark liquid. The bowl had a pattern carved into its side, flowing lines that didn’t touch and worked to support four ovals, each of which had a symbol within.

“You’re curious about the symbol?” Elwin asked. I nodded. “It’s a symbol my kind use to preserve all manner of goods. You’re free to it.”

“What’s the price?”

“Does everything have to have a price?”

I didn’t like that, not when I was already putting myself into a sort of karmic debt by accepting all the help he was offering.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But most things do and I’m wondering about this one. I’d like it if the price were explicit. I give you something for the rune.”

Elwin pouted and tapped his lips. “I don’t think you have anything I want at this moment,” he said.

“And what do you want?”

“In my most immediate future, barring the unforeseen, a champion who would stand for me against a faerie who’s close to winter. Not something I think you could do, not without a few more years and _much_ more practise in the arts.” He flicked a hand. “Take the symbol. I give it to you freely.”

I sighed. A part of me didn’t want to take it, but the blood I had would get old if I didn’t find a way to preserve it, and here Elwin was offering me something that would help in that regard.

_But that’s the trap. That’s how you get into debt and the elf gets more influence over you._

I pushed the thought aside and focused on the bowl and blood within.

“Won’t there be a conflict?” I asked. “Between the goat and the wolf?”

“They’re both of nature,” said Elwin. “There will be some, between prey and predator, but it should not be much.”

“Then I accept your gifts,” I said, “and only offer you my thanks.”

I had to hope that _that_ at least was some payment so the debt wasn’t too large.

“I accept _one_ thanks and leave you the rest. Be careful when you’re giving those out. More gluttonous Others might take them all.”

I swallowed, my heart beating hard against my chest.

_Stupid._

I only nodded.

The pressure of what I had to do was heavy against my shoulders. Only two hours prior I’d been in a meeting with the major players of the Bay, talked to Mr Calvert about my plan to rescue the Alabaster, and been told how important what I wanted was for the city. I still didn’t entirely trust Mr Calvert, but he and I wanted the same thing, and if this could help him, it would help the Bay.

_You can’t make these kind of mistakes._

Dressed in shorts, vest and with no shoes, I sat on my knees in a meadow illuminated by moonlight. My cloak was on the ground beside me, along with my belt, which had loops for my knife and flashlight; my chain was to my left, coiled and cool; and my stick was stuck tip first on the ground, seeming more regal at the centre of the meadow, with its shadow falling so it stretched long and thick.

I’d had my chain longer than my stick, but as I looked at the network of webs that stretched between me and my armament, the thickest and brightest was between me and my stick.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Elwin nodded and scampered out of the meadow.

I took off my clothes and put them aside, then, with the silver light of the moon around me – never mind that there was no moon in the sky - I hoisted the bowl of blood up over my head, tipped it over, and let it pour over me.

The bowl wasn’t too big nor too deep, but a rivulet of blood poured off it, first touching my forehead before it started to pour into the creases of my face. Long minutes passed with more blood covering me, first my face and hair, then down my neck to my chest and stomach. On and on it went. It reached the point where I had to rise to my feet and let more of the blood drench me.

The blood seemed to peter out as it reached my feet.

My arms had been spared, and I worked to get them under the effect. The blood was warm, thick and goopy, and I worked it from my chest so it covered my arms and the spaces between my fingers. When I reached my nails they flared with power; between the ritual of painting my nails and the influx of fresh blood they seemed to solidify into claws.

The power of the wolf coursed through me. My senses rose, both hearing and scent. My sight wasn’t as it was, not human; there wasn’t the same variety of colour, but I tapped into my Sight to account for the differences. It had also changed — darkness became lighter and I could see on the ground the imprints of where animals had stepped before.

I swallowed and tried to speak only for a snarl to leave me. I wanted nothing more than to move, to _chase,_ but I kept my breaths even so I wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the wolf’s instincts.

I put on my shorts and vest, then my goatskin cloak. The former would be covered with blood at the end of the process, while the latter would take in the blood to fuel the diagrams I’d drawn onto it. Three diagrams connected by ‘tunnels’ like those I’d seen Dennis use to make Amber. Two were for silence while another was to break connections while warding the ‘day’.

“Elwin,” I said and the words came out in a snarl.

The web between us flared and he appeared from the edges of the meadow with a smile. He was dressed in silken pants and wore no shoes; the parka he wore was red-orange, the colour of leaves in Fall; he had a similar looking hat, and he carried his own stick, which had a bulbous head. He’d called it a knobkerrie.

“You would tap into more of the wolf’s power if you were naked,” he said. “Clothes are a recent thing to humankind.”

“I’m more comfortable with my clothes on,” I said, the words short, growls mixed in them.

He nodded.

My knife was stowed and so was my flashlight. I put my stick in a loop in my belt.

“You look almost beautiful,” he said. I grunted. Neither agreement or disagreement, just wanting the conversation to move on. “Let’s be off.”

He took off and I followed. My body tipped forward, as though it wanted to run on all fours but was hindered by physiology. There was power in my gait, and through wolf-drenched eyes, ears and nose, there was a new dimension to the world around me.

The trees were tall and winding, almost beautiful in how they were spread out. I tapped into wolf senses and speed, but my manoeuvrability was that of a goat. Exposed roots popped out and I jumped over them without much mind. Elwin ran up a tree as though it was the ground and I followed. I couldn’t do the same thing for long — there was something careful in the footing of goats — but I tore into the bark with sharp claws to help the climb.

We used the trees from then on. Elwin had an eye for thick branches and I trusted the cloak to keep my balance for me. A gap arose and I jumped without a second thought. I landed on a branch on the other side, leaned forward as the branch drooped, then ran, trusting my feet to find traction.

They did without trouble.

Barefoot, I moved better than when I wore shoes, as though my feet could find better traction and propel me to greater speeds.

A good thirty minutes passed before I caught the smell of _prey_ in the air.

I changed direction without a word and heard as Elwin shifted to follow me.

We were silent as we moved, almost like wind that passed through leaves and only left fluttering in its wake. I followed the smell, _salivating_ as I got closer. I felt as the wolf threatened to take over, the need to move, to run faster; strategies on how to catch my prey popped into my head, and all of them seemed hollow because I didn’t have a pack.

“What is your name?” Elwin whispered. He was not part of the pack. He was a danger and untrusted. Like a lot of people were untrusted.

Except maybe Lisa. Except maybe Victoria. Dad was definitely trusted.

“Taylor Hebert,” I answered, irritated that he was in my way. Things clicked into place. The influence of the wolf still lingered but it was weaker. “Daughter of Danny and Annette Hebert. A practitioner.”

I had control once more as we moved.

“Don’t lose yourself,” he whispered.

 _Just like the music when we were on the Friend’s Journey,_ I thought. _Don’t get drawn in too deeply._

I kept the thought at the back of my mind as we got closer to the smell and I felt the wolf doing its best to come to the fore. I reminded myself who I was and why I was doing all this and it worked to fortify me against the power’s influence.

The deer was awake and on its feet, the sound of urine hitting the ground where it stood. It was _prey_ and prey had great situational awareness. I saw this through the roving web that almost connected to me a few times. I kept to the shadows, silent save for the creaking of wood beneath me, which blended well with our surroundings.

After its pissing, the deer, on the small side, with nubs for horns, moved away to find a little alcove. It lay down and closed its eyes, _yet_ its web still roved around, flaring whenever I shifted, with the deer on alert each time and ready to bolt.

_It’s gotta sleep soon, right?_

So I waited, _hungry_ for my prey.

Thirty minutes passed and the deer stood up _again_. It went off to relieve itself before it returned to that false sleep.

I felt a snarl start up in my throat, but a touch from Elwin reminded me who I was. He was a lot calmer than I felt, settled comfortably in a tangle of branches.

Another thirty minutes and it was still too alert for me to sneak up on it.

 _Fuck this,_ I thought, frustration and anger at the fore. _I’m Taylor Hebert. Daughter of Danny and Annette Hebert._

The feelings dulled.

An idea hit me, a story of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I didn’t have a sheepskin cloak, but a goat had to work just as well.

I moved away and then dropped to the ground. I covered myself with my cloak and shuffled forward. I was _sure_ I looked ridiculous, but I didn’t care. The deer reacted as I got close, its web becoming taut as it looked at me, but it didn’t run.

I neared.

The deer stood but didn’t run.

I got closer.

The line between us got thicker with each step, lined with more unease.

A breath away the web line flared, its colour changing. The wolf in me came to the fore and I _pounced._ The deer darted away. The wolf’s instincts wanted me to chase, not blindly but with less forethought than I liked. I pushed it down and reached for _me,_ Taylor Hebert. Not enough to overwhelm, but just enough that there was balance.

I ran forward and up a tree, into the branches where I quickly got ahead of the deer. It heard me and turned away. I ran after it, finding spaces in the foliage to move through and ahead.

Our eyes met.

A mistake on its end.

My flashlight was in my hand and I flicked it on. The light was _blinding._ The deer bleated and bolted, only to summarily trip over an exposed root.

I let myself fall, landed in a roll and came up with my torch dropped and my knife in my hand. I got close and jumped onto its back. My urge was to bite but my knife came down and stabbed the deer at the neck over and over again.

Pretty quickly it fell. Not dead, but close.

“Nothing wasted,” Elwin said, and he opened his parka to reveal a bowl and some rope. “You’ll make mistakes but it’s acceptable. Let’s begin.”

I had no reservations because I was a predator. Under Elwin’s instruction I started to bleed and skin the deer.

***

“Sophia,” I said as I opened the door.

She wasn’t alone; there were three others with her. I didn’t know the fox’s name, but it was present, black and shadowy with red eyes, sitting on Sophia’s shoulder, two tails wrapped around her neck like a scarf. The fox wasn’t a problem. It was the _others_.

A breath left me, filled with all the fatigue of not having slept, of chasing down a deer and then skinning and stripping the deer of its meat so I could get at its bones.

“And friends,” I finished.

Emma’s smile was bright as she took me in, her eyes glowing a harsh red to show that she’d opened her inner eye. There was a strength to her now as I took her in with the Sight; before, her shoulders had been slouched and her expression afraid, but now they were straighter, and there was a surety to how she took things in. Madison, by contrast, seemed a bit shaken, standing behind Emma with the expression of a person who wanted to burrow into the ground and disappear.

“Taylor,” she said, the words smug. “You look terrible.”

I ignored her, which felt easier to do than it had a few months back.

“What do you want?” I asked Sophia.

She reached into her backpack and pulled out a jar of blood; there was a diagram drawn in marker, four circles with a symbol within, connected by thick bands inscribed with Spanish words.

“Blood from someone who’s met and dined with the Alabaster,” she said. “You have no idea how fucking hard that was. That hair you gave me had traps.”

 _I gave away Jonah because I didn’t trust you to get this,_ I thought. Since binding him, I’d kept Jonah in a box. Now giving him away like that felt awful, more so since the blood Carlos had given me wouldn’t have any use. I made a mental note to ask Mr Calvert if there was anything I could do with it, just so Jonah wouldn’t have been given away for nothing.

Sophia and her circle hadn’t moved.

“Are you expecting a thanks?” I asked. I wanted to add that she wasn’t ever going to get it, but that would be an oath.

“Ask,” she said.

Mr Calvert had mentioned a relationship between Sophia and me. Something of one _did_ exist, but I didn’t know what it was, at least from her end. She wasn’t nicer, but she’d helped when she hadn’t needed to.

I just didn’t get her. Why she’d let Emma and the others bully me, why she’d been a part of it, and right now, why she wanted me to ask or confront her about Awakening Emma and Madison.

“You don’t owe me any explanations, Sophia,” I said. “We’re not friends. I don’t think we like each other. I know that I don’t like you.”

“There’s a war out there,” she said.

“I know,” I said.

“But do you _know?”_ she said. “How do you think the Nazis are going to punish the Nazi fuck, Tammi?”

“I don’t know.”

“Call her unworthy,” said Sophia. “Then they’ll strip her of the power they gave her, leave her only the stuff she managed to get herself. Then they’re going to tell her to prove herself, prove that she belongs.”

No ifs or maybes. She _knew._

“How do you know all that?”

“Because I make it a point to know what the Nazis are doing,” she said. “People like me or close to me don’t have a choice but to. We know their tactics, some of us so we can fight back, others because it’ll make it easier for them to run and hide. We know their tricky shit and we make it a point of making sure we can tell when they’re trying to slip things through.”

My eyes went beyond her, to Emma and Madison.

Sophia was an enigma, and at moments like this it was _very_ frustrating. I hadn’t lied when I said I didn’t like her, but a part of me still wanted to understand. As much as Emma had hurt me, there was a part of me that wanted to know why, before she’d Awakened, her shoulders were drooped to the Sight, and why she seemed scared. I wanted to know why Madison had been a part of all this. I wanted to know why Sophia had been there and why she was now doing all of this.

I tried to put a few things about her in perspective. I knew she’d met the Alabaster and I had to think there was a reason for that, a reason that she would have been drawn to her, perhaps feeling hurt and completely alone; but whatever that reason it still didn’t excuse what she’d let happen to me, especially when she’d apparently had the power to stop it all along.

Whatever had happened to each of them, whatever personal shit they’d gone through, there was no excuse for the bullying.

I had to remember that.

“I honestly don’t know what you want me to say,” I said.

She frowned, opened her mouth and then closed it as a web flared. Sophia turned. Emma did too, belatedly.

A cab had stopped at the curb. Victoria and Eric stepped out, the latter of which having blue hair. I saw the concern on their expression as they walked up. Victoria was poised as always, and her expression was hard without being a scowl. She moved in a way that made the others step back, Madison much quicker than Emma.

“Hey,” Victoria said to me. “Hello.”

“Hey,” said Emma. “Victoria. I’m Emma, I think we were in a photoshoot together once. Your mom knows my Dad.”

“I remember the photoshoot and I remember you,” Victoria said coolly. “You were a bitch.”

Emma’s eyes went wide. She gaped and then closed her mouth. She deflated.

“Oh wow,” said Eric. “Claws out, huh?”

“Have you told her about Karma?” Victoria asked.

“She knows,” said Sophia. She seemed bored of the entire thing.

“I always wished I could curse you back then,” said Victoria. “That girl needed to be happy, she was going to be, but you and your friends decided to be dicks to her. You’re a practitioner now, and that comes with judgement from the spirits. So next time you feel like being a dick, remember that that dickishness is going to bounce right back to you given enough time.”

A grin had spread across my expression and it was hard to fight it down. I was still tired, physically and emotionally, but seeing Emma without her charms brought me strength, as vindictive as it was.

“May I come in?” Victoria asked.

“You may,” I said. “You too, Eric.”

“Let’s head out,” said Sophia. “There’s still a lot I’ve got to teach you. Hebert, watch your back.”

The three walked off.

“Threat?” Eric asked.

“I don’t think so. You’re earlier than I expected,” I said as I closed the door. Thinking about Sophia, Emma and Madison wasn’t something I wanted to do and there really wasn’t any time to. There were more important things going on. “I didn’t have time to prepare anything to eat. I have some cold pizza if you want some.”

“Yes,” said Eric. “And water, please. My mom’s on my case about all the sugar I consume. I promised to try and cut down.”

I nodded and went to the kitchen. They came with me. Dad had gone out with a friend and he’d be out for a while. 

“How do you know them?” Victoria asked.

“We go to Winslow,” I said.

“And I get the sense there’s bad blood between you two?” she said. “You and the red-head.”

“Did you look at our webs?”

“I’m not very good at reading those,” she said. “But I can read faces. You were _not_ happy.”

“Yeah,” said Eric. “Thanks.” He started to eat his pizza. “Also, as delicately as I can, you look like you didn’t sleep.”

“How much does he know?” I asked.

“I didn’t tell him anything, just that I was helping you with a project.”

“You can ask me,” said Eric through a mouthful. “I’m right here.”

“I’m sorry for the suspicion,” I said. “But I have to ask, is this you guys trying to get information on Mr Calvert?”

“I mean I’d like to know more,” said Victoria. “The guy’s sort of an enigma. He didn’t really have a presence in the Bay, only attended the occasional meeting. But now he’s made a play for Lord and it looks like he’s _way_ more connected than I thought.”

“But,” said Eric.

“But,” said Victoria, “I care more about your project and what it’ll mean for the Bay than who becomes Lord.”

“Is it that important?” Eric asked.

I sighed. “It’s very important,” I said. “Promise of silence.”

“I promise that I won’t disclose the information you’re about to tell that is connected to this project, directly or indirectly, to any person, being or Other unless you, Taylor Hebert, give me permission.”

“Chompers, the Bogeyman who’s bound to me, managed to bind an Alabaster.”

Eric’s eyes bugged out and he coughed. He swallowed hard. _“How?”_ he asked.

“I can’t say,” I said. “I made a deal not to disclose information that could make it easier to bind him. That’s too close to his nature and it could be information you or any practitioner can use for a negative or positive binding.”

“Okay, I guess,” said Eric. “So what are you going to do?”

“I want to free the Alabaster,” I said, “then I’ll ask her to help us unseat the Alabaster of Brockton Bay. I think it was you, Victoria, who said he’s the one who pulls in people who are likely to join E88.”

“He _helps,”_ said Victoria. “But it’s not simple. He pulls in people that would have made the leap in the first place. Magic helps, but it doesn’t create something that’s not there.”

“Getting him out doesn’t mean no one will join E88,” I said with a nod. “I think I get it.”

“But it’s something,” said Eric. “Something big. If the Nazis know about this, they’ll try to stop you.”

“I’ve been told they’ll be kept busy,” I said. “But I don’t trust that and I don’t want to wait too long. Chompers figured out a loophole that’ll cut down the time he has with me, and when he’s no longer bound by me, he’ll be able to move the door into the Alabaster’s domain.”

“How are you going to get in?” Victoria asked.

“I’ve already started on a hallow,” I said. “I’ll fill it with Alabaster blood as well the blood of two people who’ve gone into the Alabaster’s domain.” I tapped the jar Sophia had given me. “I’ve hunted down a deer and stripped it of pelt and meat. The bones are in a shrine Elwin made where the sun hits, where impurities will be purged out over the next three days. Then I’ll draw an elvish diagram before imbuing the deer skull with the blood.”

Eric whistled. “How long have you been working on this?” he said.

“Was that why you ask for information on hallows in the first place?” Victoria asked.

“That was happenstance, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” I said. “Things are close to coming together. But when I asked Chompers to lead me to the door, he told me about the guards.”

“Which is where we fit in,” said Victoria. “We have to prepare a deal so that Mel doesn’t screw Taylor over.”

 _“Gods,_ your life as a practitioner seems to be moving so fast,” Eric said. “Before the Friend the last major project I did was catching Samson Punchparty and that was way, _way_ back. I haven’t even thought about getting a new Other, never mind finding one that’s interesting.”

“I haven’t done a lot,” I said.

“You’ve done more than most of us when we were as new as you,” said Victoria. “The only person I know who has as much drive is Carlos, but that’s because he has a curse to worry about.”

“Can I ask—”

“Can you?” Eric said. Victoria slapped his shoulder. The boy smiled.

“May I ask, if it isn’t too personal,” I said. “What’s going on with him. It feels like he’s not in the Wards anymore.”

“That’s because he isn’t,” said Victoria. “The Protectorate asks for a lot when you join, but what Carlos needs is freedom to study as much as he can so that he can keep back the curse. Not to mention that with some of the knowledge restricted to people in the Protectorate, more so with the Wards, who knows how long it’ll be before he has clearance to know about major curses? He and his family decided it was better to go it on their own since they have a shorter timeline.”

“Do they need help?” I asked. “I could talk to Mr Calvert. He wants to be Lord and part of that is looking after people—”

“I’m sure it’ll be a part of it,” said Victoria. “Part of the Lordship. Allies help and he’ll talk to as many people as he can.”

“Which is why I have to ask,” said Eric, “did Calvert send you to us because he wanted us on his side?”

“Mr Calvert didn’t send me to you,” I said. “Lisa did. She thought you and I would be good friends.” I shrugged. “Guess she was sort of right.”

“Lisa has that knack,” said Victoria.

“Comes with being an Enchantress,” Eric added.

“Anyway, we should start,” said Victoria. “Mel is very strict so she’ll want to know as _everything_ about the threat she’ll be presenting her team to. What will we have to deal with?”

We went through the list. Three Bogeymen, a goblin and a hunger spirit. Chompers had already given me all he knew about the Bogeymen, but nothing about the goblin or the hunger spirit.

“What do you know about the goblin?” I asked. We’d moved our conversation to the basement so we could talk to Chompers.

“Are you sure you want to ask me that?” he said. “The information could very well lead to the revelation of a weakness that could see me bound.”

“I’m asking so I’m protected when I go against them,” I said. “It’s within the terms of our contract. I asked a question and you haven’t answered it completely.”

“Very well,” said Chompers. “The goblin is a crone who has a soft spot for children. Well, as soft a spot as goblins can have in their perverted way. She took a liking to me when she found me travelling through the Warrens.”

“What are the Warrens?” I asked.

“Pathways the goblins travel through,” Chompers answered readily. “They form between locations of larger caves goblins and other perverted things call home, allowing them to move through the city without getting into the spaces that take from their essence—”

“He’s trying to distract you,” said Victoria.

“I know,” I said. “He does that sometimes.” I jotted down what he’d told me then went back to the questions we’d written down. “The goblin, what are her abilities?”

“She’s a mother,” said Chompers. “She’s able to birth smaller goblins at the expense of her _self,_ though I taught her my trick so she’s able to use the essence of what she eats as power to make babies. The second last time we talked she hadn’t quite figured it out, and when I came asking for her service I made sure not to ask in case she could do something special.”

“When did you teach her?” I asked.

“Less than a year,” he said. “I’m not very good at keeping track of time when I don’t need to.”

“Mel’s not going to like that,” said Victoria. “Going in without knowing the threat. Do you have some sort of deal that stops them from hurting you?”

Chompers didn’t answer.

“Do you have a deal where they can’t hurt you?” I asked, an obvious question in retrospect.

“They may hurt but not kill me or their prize is forfeit,” said Chompers.

“And what prize is that?” I asked.

“They will have keys into the Alabaster’s domain that they may use three times,” said Chompers. “It’s quite the prize; fighting in the Alabaster’s domain is barred and they would have a measure of safety when they most need it.”

“You’ll be forsworn if you can’t give them that prize,” said Eric. “That’s a very big risk.”

“Not as large as you would think, especially when the person who stands against me is a fledgling practitioner,” he said with a shrug.

“A fledgling practitioner with help,” said Victoria. “How certain are you of your victory? Enough to stake your very _being_ over it?”

“The greatest treasures require the greatest risk,” he said.

“There are ways of doing this where you could still come out of it intact,” said Victoria. “Don’t fight us. Go into the Alabaster’s domain and free her. We could talk to her, ask her to keep your promise to these Others. You have to realise that things are starting to look bleak.”

“For you or for me?” Chompers asked. Victoria didn’t answer. Chompers smiled. “Tick-tick-tick goes the clock. You haven’t even seen the door into her domain, nor do you have the key. You have an idea how to get in, but an idea is only that. How sure are you of your victory?”

Diplomacy wasn’t going to get us anywhere.

“What do you know about the Hunger Spirit?” I asked.

“He’s a wandering spirit,” said Chompers. “In a place as rife with hunger as this city he’s made quite the home for himself, feeding on impressions of hunger to ensure he doesn’t cease.”

“How did he form?” Victoria asked, and I repeated the question.

“I don’t know,” said Chompers. “He’s an Asian spirit. The rules may be different.”

“Should have definitely led with that,” said Victoria.

“Does it make a difference?” I asked.

“A _very_ big difference,” said Victoria. “The binding won’t be the same, the way of banishing the spirit won’t be the same. There are different expectations in the Asian practice even if there are some similarities. If it was American, then maybe we could banish it by giving it food, but in an Asian context there’ll be a lot of rituals they follow during the binding that might make things different.”

“Or they could just force it,” said Eric. “Isn’t that what happens in Japan?”

“Japanese spirits are _scary,”_ said Victoria. “They’re _big_ and they’re sticky. Give one room to grow and you’ll have a problem on your hands.”

“The girl with the tape?” Eric asked.

“The girl with the tape,” said Victoria.

“Now _you’re_ distracting me,” I said.

“Sorry,” said Eric and Victoria gave me an apologetic smile.

I put that down on my notes even if I wasn’t sure how to use it.

“What abilities does he have?” I asked.

“As most spirits do, they impart their misery on others,” he said. “In this case hunger and a drive to sate it.”

“Do you think Mel will be satisfied?” I asked Victoria after we’d moved upstairs.

“I’m not really sure,” she said. “It would be better if we went there and found out more. Or at least dealt with them enough for us to tell her what she's going to deal with. She’s…particular, a professional. A job like this would usually take her months to do, to plan, scout and all sorts of things. She only took a job with this short a timeframe because of the price you're offering"

“Then I’d be happy just for an info gathering thing,” I said. “I haven’t been to the sanctuary yet and I want to go. If they could serve as bodyguards to at least take me there, no expectation that we’ll bind any of the Others there, I’m fine.”

Victoria nodded. “I think we can negotiate on that,” she said. “Let’s write things out and then head over there. I’ll call and tell them we’re on our way.”

Compiling the info we had didn’t take too long. We only had to ask Chompers for a bit more detail for things such as description as well as history of how he’d come into contact with each of the guards before we left to meet Melanie and her team.

Palanquin was also the name of a club downtown near Lord Street. It was the sort of place that opened near eight and always had people, even in the middle of the week. There was a list of places that were safe to be at night if you were a person of colour, places where you couldn’t get into trouble for walking down the street at night, and Palanquin was one of those places.

I’d never been, but I’d heard about it from listening in on conversations.

The doors were open but there was the air that the place was closed. 

Victoria led us in. The place was dark, with only a few lights on and not many windows. There were diagrams near the roof hidden within graffiti, a circle of sorts that glowed bright with spiritual activity.

Since walking the Garden Route I saw one interesting thing per trip, and I had to think the diagram was that.

“We’re closed,” a man with a mop said.

“We’re here to see Mel,” said Victoria.

“Go to the bar,” he said. “ _Don’t_ step on the wet floor. Jordan! Get the boss!”

We found a seat at the bar where a woman was cleaning some glasses.

“Want anything?” she asked.

“Scotch,” said Eric. “On the rocks.” The woman reached for a glass, added some ice and then poured some. She slid it forward. “Wait, seriously?”

Eric reached for the glass but the woman was faster. She grabbed the glass of scotch and downed it.

I snorted as Eric became crestfallen.

“I expect you to pay for that,” said Melanie.

“I’m sure someone will offer me a drink tonight,” the woman said with a smile. She was probably in her twenties, tanned skin and dark curly hair, wearing dark eyeshadow and darker lipstick. There was a sultriness to her voice, almost flirtatious.

“Am I the only one feeling that?” I said.

“Feeling what?” said Victoria.

“Uh…” I just shook my head.

“Let’s head upstairs,” said Melanie.

“Will I have to pay for some juice?” Eric asked.

“We don’t serve juice,” said the woman.

“There’ll be juice upstairs,” said Melanie. We followed her to the back then up a set of stairs. It was _clear_ that there was something going on the moment we reached the living quarters; everything seemed to glow in a low light of spiritual activity and when I squinted I caught imprints of images that looked close to people.

“Is this a demesne?” Eric asked.

“No,” said Melanie, “but Elle has a lot of cachet with the spirits in this building.”

“Is she agoraphobic?” I asked. “Lisa mentioned there was someone who lived in a space that seemed like a demesne but isn’t.”

Melanie nodded. We walked down a hallway, narrow and stretching longer than it should. Each door had a bit of personality to it, with one even covered by graffiti in abstract shapes. We reached the furthermost door, which led into an office, with a plate of finger foods on a table and some juice.

“You’re free to eat,” she said.

Eric went for the food.

“At some point you’re going to start putting on weight,” said Victoria.

“I’m a growing boy,” Eric said through a mouthful.

“Let’s start,” said Melanie. “I’ve got a lot of things on my plate and I’d like to get this done as soon as possible. I’ll start things off by saying we’ve already travelled down the Garden Route and we didn’t find Blesk.”

“It’s going to be harder the second time around,” I said. “Just as you’re close to getting in, you’ll find something interesting that will extend the trip.”

“How many times have you gone down the route?” she asked.

“Twice.”

“Third time’s more impactful,” said Melanie.

“Is there any risk that she’ll become a Finder?” Victoria asked. “I don’t think that’s what Taylor wants, right?”

“What is a Finder?” I asked. “My copy of _Essentials_ didn’t cover it.”

“A practitioner who walks the Paths,” said Melanie. “Each Path grants certain boons and prizes. Knowledge in some respects, passive abilities or objects with power of varying uses.”

“I think I ran across one of those,” I said. “When I was walking the Garden Route I found a coin. I haven’t used it, but it was magical.”

“You’ll have to be careful how you use it,” he said. “The boons the Paths give are powerful sometimes, but they also exact a price.”

“That seems to be a running theme in the practice,” I said. “Anyway, back to the deal. The payment I’m offering isn’t too large, so I’m hoping that I could use your team to get to the place I want to go. If you can, I’d like it if you bound at least one of the Others in our way, but that’s not a strict requirement. I want to get a lay of the land.”

“Information gathering,” she said with a curt nod. “I can respect that.”

“But do you?” I asked.

Eric grinned and held up his fist. I bumped it. Victoria let out a sigh.

“I’m ambivalent,” said Melanie. “I care less about you and your goal than I do finding Blesk, helping him out of the Path he’s in and learning about what he knows. To answer your question, Victoria, I don’t think she will. Everything I’ve seen and heard says you’re tied to bestial and elf magic more than the Paths.”

“Did the claws give it away?” Eric asked jokingly.

“That and the impression of a wolf that’s still on her,” said Melanie.

_I didn’t know you could see that._

“Okay,” I said. “Are you amenable to the deal as things stand?”

“I’d need to know a _lot_ more than what you’ve already told me,” she said. “Where are we going for instance, what are the threats we’re facing and what abilities do they have?”

I reached into my backpack and pulled out the notes Victoria, Eric and I had compiled. I slid them over and Melanie started to read them.

“I don’t know where we’re going yet,” I said. “But I think it’s in the Docks.”

She looked up. “Where a majority of the fighting between E88 and the ABB is taking place. We’d be putting ourselves in danger other than these Others.”

“Don’t forget about what I’m going to tell you,” said Victoria. “Notes Weld and I compiled, stuff we’ve been working on and maybe a Path that could give you more information.”

“It could be things I already know,” said Melanie.

“That’s the gamble,” said Victoria.

“I’m not much of a gambler,” she said.

“You’re more of one than most,” Victoria countered. “You went to Vegas on nothing more than rumours.”

“You know about that?”

“Lisa,” said Victoria.

“Of course.” Melanie sighed and looked down the notes. “Okay,” she said. She held out a hand. “For a night you’ll have my team. We’ll attempt to take you to where you want to go, in return you’ll lead my team into the Garden Route and Victoria will tell us what she found out on her end.”

“Attempt?” I said.

“An earnest attempt, staked on the reputation I’ve accumulated having helped various others and Others in numerous jobs,” she said, “with the knowledge that, with everything we don’t know, we might be overwhelmed and might not reach the destination. It’s the only price you can afford.”

After a bit of thought I took her hand and shook it.

“I accept.”

“I do too,” said Victoria.

“Go on,” said Melanie.

“The Friend’s Road has access to a library,” she said. “When we walked through we messed things up but it might be fixed now. Weld got some names that are familiar, William Manton and Afrodille Sechen, but most aren’t.”

Melanie frowned. “How does this library work?”

“You ask the librarian to take you towards a particular subject and she does,” said Victoria. “Weld asked about the strange variety of Others with human cores and he was taken to some books that could get him answers. He found a Dramatis Personae with a few names, but those were the only ones we recognised.”

“Who are Manton and Sechen?” I asked.

“Manton was in the Protectorate,” said Victoria. “He was someone with exceptional knowledge in dreams, astral forms and projections.” Victoria ran a hand over her arm. “Knowledge from him is part of the reason that my Fragile friend is with me. He came up with the Manton Limits, which describes the amount of self certain people should be willing to give up before there’s the danger of something malign happening. Sechen was with the PRT when they were a bigger thing. She was Aware but unawakened, and studied the categories of Others, their weaknesses and strengths, as well as the intersection between most of them. She came up with the theory on Sechen Ranges, which is the variance that can exist within a certain subset of Others and the underlying logic that carries across them, as well as how to account for overlaps between subsets.”

“Wasn’t her work debunked?” asked Melanie.

“No, not debunked,” said Victoria. “Just that goblins messed with it.”

 _“Goblins,”_ Melanie muttered.

“Goblins,” said Victoria.

“Goblins are an academic’s nightmare,” Eric explained. Which didn’t help at all.

“I don’t know what that is,” I said. “The PRT.”

“You can explain that to her after our meeting,” said Melanie. “I’ll need all those names so I can look through them and check if I haven’t had any past interactions, as well as details on how to get on the Friend’s Road.”

Victoria pulled out her phone and pressed it a few times. “Email sent,” she said. “You could give me stuff you’ve figured out. I can be the go-between for you and Lisa.”

“I don’t want to work with Lisa,” Melanie said.

“What’s wrong with Lisa?” I asked.

“She’s too full of herself. She thinks she knows more than she actually does.”

“In this case, she might know something,” said Victoria.

“I’ll figure it out,” she said. “I want us to wait two nights before we go ahead with the mission. I have a feeling that the first skirmishes of the war for the Lordship will start soon, I want to see how things will fall before I think about a plan on how to approach this.”

“Okay,” I said. “I have some stuff to do too, preparations for the best-case scenario.”

“We’ll meet then,” said Melanie. “You can see yourselves out.”

“What now?” Victoria asked as we left.

“I’ll visit Elwin to get started on the hallow,” I said. “Hopefully I’ll have it done in time.”

“What about the binding?” Victoria asked. “You won’t be able to fight in her realm.”

“Positive binding,” I said. “Blood from people close to the Alabaster. I have no idea how I’m going to get the circle around her, but that’s the initial plan for now.”

“You’ve _really_ been thinking about this a while,” said Eric. “Props.”

I smiled. “Do you guys want to come with me to meet Elwin?” I asked.

“As much as I’d like to do that,” said Victoria. “I can’t take the risk of getting too close to an elf. Sorry.”

“I get it,” I said. “I get that what I’m doing is a risk.”

“I’ll think of ways to get the circle around the Alabaster,” she said. “I’ll work with the family to bind some Others so we have people on our side as we go looking for the Alabaster’s domain.”

I nodded. “We’ll talk?”

“We’ll talk,” she said and we split off.

I’d said I would visit Elwin, but I hadn’t given her a time, which meant I wasn’t bound to anything.

When I got home I thought about setting the alarm, but decided that it would be better to let the rest of the day pass me by. I woke up, still feeling horrible, as though I needed a few more hours to even things out, and did my ritual around the house.

Dad and I had dinner in the evening.

“Last week before you have to go back to school,” he said as we had dinner.

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “Winslow’s going to have police at school to make sure no more fights break out,” he said.

“That’s…I’m not sure how good that is.”

Dad sighed. “It’s _a_ solution,” he said. “I don’t think they’re going to have a much better thing at least until after summer.”

“It’s temporary?” I asked.

“Hopefully,” said Dad. “The thing with temporary things is that they can become permanent pretty quickly.”

“Bleak.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Anyway, I’ve got good news. I might have a new job, head of hiring for a construction company that’s going to be building apartments in the Docks.”

“That’s…good?”

“Better pay and jobs for some people. But it still depends on a lot of things,” he said. “I’m worried about gentrification. The Bay already has a homelessness problem and this could push it over the edge. Some of the landlords could start kicking people out when they think they could make more money from other tenants.”

“I thought this was supposed to be good news,” I said.

“Sorry,” Dad said with a sight. “Might be in a mood.”

“Something wrong?”

“Nothing you should worry about,” he said. “Oh! How do you feel about candles?”

“I’m…not sure what that means.”

“I know someone who has a lot of candles and I can buy them in batch like the salt. I don’t know if you’re into that sort of thing for your religion.”

“I’d like candles,” I said. A smile stretched across my face in the way it often did when Dad helped me with the practice, even though I was sure he didn’t understand it. “Thank you, Dad.”

He smiled. “Just don’t burn the house down,” he said.

“I’ll try.”

Dad chuckled. “Better get to sleep,” he said. “Work tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“You too.”

After Dad had gone to sleep, I drew a connection breaker and donned my practice clothes and backpack. Amber was in their hallow in my ear, whispering of warnings when we were with Chompers. I made sure to get an oath from the Bogeyman that he wasn’t going to use his freedom tonight, then I left to visit Elwin.

 _“There is someone walking behind you,”_ said Amber as we walked to the park. We were only a few houses away from mine, in a place that _shouldn’t_ have had an Other skulking around.

I whipped around.

“Sheila?” A man stood behind me, big and burly, his eyes desperate and his hair unkempt. “Sheila, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Oh god, I was worried that something bad happened to you.” There was pain in his voice. He flickered and his expression changed into anger. “You ran, didn’t you! Why did you run? Why do you make me do this?” He stepped forward in a rush. “Why do you always make me do this!”

I took a few steps back and reached into the pockets of my backpack. There was a mound of salt there. The man got close and reached. I threw the salt at him and he disappeared.

 _“He’ll be back,”_ said Amber. _“They always come back. They always have ways of finding you.”_

“I’ll do my best to make sure he doesn’t hurt us,” I said. “Just warn me if he or anything like him comes back.”

 _“Okay,”_ said Amber.

We got to the faerie ring and walked through the path at the base of the tree. This time the path led me to the clearing with the deer. Elwin was there, with animal skulls laid out around him.

“We’ll practice your carving tonight,” he said. I pulled out my knife. “No. You’ve used that knife in combat, it will have gathered spirits from each one it cut.” He pointed to a silver knife. “You’ll use that one.”

We began.


	22. Chapter 22

_I’m sorry for making you go through this._

“Sheila! Sheila, stop _running!”_ The ghost was large, its expression skipping between remorse and anger. It moved either with even strides or bursts of teleportation that ensured it was always close to its target. _Amber._

They didn’t scream. I didn’t think Amber was a screamer, but I knew they were terrified because that was their default setting. We’d been through the park enough times that they knew it well, that they should have been able to outrun the ghost, but the man teleported when Amber got too far, almost always forcing them to turn on a dime and run the other way.

“Sheila, stop _running!”_

The ghost disappeared and appeared again ahead of Amber, and they slid to a stop and fell. The man stepped forward, _reaching._ Amber spun and dodged the grab; they got to their feet and started to run only to trip and fall.

“You keep doing this,” the man said as he strode forward, looming over Amber. “You _keep_ doing this. Embarrassing me. What do you think the neighbours say when you disappear? What do you think they say about _me?_ How do you think it makes me look? _”_

Amber scrambled as he stepped closer, never too far.

I was barefoot, crouched low on a thick branch, my coat drooping to hide me; my face was red with deer blood, my senses attuned to the smallest signs of danger. There was fear, a skittishness that did its best to overwhelm me, but I kept it back by reminding myself who I was.

I dropped and the ghost turned, his expression stuttering before it settled into recognition.

“David?” he said, tone gentle and soft. “Go back to bed, my boy. Mom and I are just talking.”

“I’m not David,” I said. My backpack was heavy on my back but I’d long learned to bear its weight. I had my stick, knife and my flashlight, though they wouldn’t be useful here. Even so, I was filled with confidence.

“David. _David!_ David, listen to me when I’m talking to you! Go back to bed right now—” He appeared in front of me, his arm already trying to grab me. I ducked and stepped past him, closer to Amber.

“Amber, come!”

The web between us flared.

Amber found their feet, ran and jumped, arms spread in a desperate hug; before the hug could connect they disappeared into my earring where I felt their weight settle into the hallow.

“Where’s your mother, David!” the ghost said, rounding on me. “Is she off fucking Lyle again?”

He neared and I bolted.

It was night and the park was empty. There was no moon out, but between my coat and the deer blood my eyes were attuned to the darkness.

“David! Come back here, boy! Come back to me. I’m sorry.”

The web between us flared and he appeared to my side. I continued forward, spotted a mound of dirt with bits of white, then bounded towards it. The ghost followed. There was an opening, a place where the dirt was flat. I passed into it, reaching into my backpack and pulling out a bottle filled with salt mid-run.

The ground had been prepared: salt mixed with dirt had been formed in a circle with two sections missing, the entry and exit point. I got out of the other side and turned on the spot, the bottle filled with salt at the ready.

“Running never works, you _bitch,”_ he said, now walking. “When will you learn? Guess I have to teach you.” I bent low and poured the salt to connect the two mounds. The man stopped. “Open this door. Open this door!” He turned and started walking towards the opening we’d entered through.

A boy stood on the other side, dressed in a black blazer and black shorts, a dirty white shirt beneath and a red and white tie that hung too tight around his neck; the boy had something of a big head, blond hair that was neatly parted, and his face had nothing but a lipless mouth with a row of big, yellowed teeth.

Chompers stood with his own bottle, one that had held salt, and one he’d used to close his side of the salt circle.

“David?” the ghost said. “David! _David!”_

“Are you okay, Amber?” I asked.

 _“He almost caught me,”_ they said, terrified.

“I’m sorry for putting you through that,” I said. “But I had to.”

I’d ignored the ghost two nights ago. It had chased after me and I’d gone to practise carving with Elwin. Then, this morning, Dad had heard that Mrs Rumlow was in hospital because her husband, coming home drunk, had beaten her. The ghost had been there when I’d gone looking, in their house, a can of beer in its hand, head hung, but brighter for having fed its _self._

There had been no other option but to act, to capture and bind the ghost because I didn’t think there was anyone else who’d be able to do it. The first moves had been made: a dogfighting ring run by Hookwolf had been hit, and the dogs had gone on something of a rampage and attacked everyone and anyone. It had devolved into chaos until the police had shown up.

Everyone would be watching for what was going to happen next, preparing themselves for their own battles, and ways to mitigate damage. I didn’t think there would be anyone who would be able to fix small problems like these, and even if it meant I was tired tonight when I went to meet the others, it was still the right thing to do.

“Sheila. Sheila. Please, baby, open the door,” said the ghost. “Let me in. I’m sorry. I’m gonna be better. I promise.”

I pulled off my backpack and reached for a leather belt.

Symbolism mattered and a lot of films had drawn the connection in my head between leather belts and abuse. In preparation for this binding I’d created a hallow: a diagram on the ground that had set the table, before I’d scrubbed it with salt. There were other ways to clean an object, but salt was something I had in abundance and it was the easiest method.

I threw the belt into the circle.

“Then go in.”

“Sheila, you _bitch,_ open this goddamn door!”

“Ghost!” I said. “I dub you the Abusive Man for that is your nature. That’s all that you are—”

“I love you, Sheila,” he said, pleading. “You have to see that. But you _keep_ making me do this. You keep embarrassing me. Undermining me in front of my friends. This is all your fault.”

“No,” I said. “It’s not her. It’s _you._ You’re the one who hit her, you’re the one who terrorised your son, you’re the one who was so horrible that _this_ was left behind. You’re an abuser even if you don’t think you are, no matter what you tell yourself. Once again, I dub you the Abusive Man.”

“Spare the rod, spoil the child, David,” he said. “You don’t show respect. You take after her that—”

“No,” I interrupted. “No excuses or justifications. You don’t get to call yourself a good person. Not with everything you’ve done. Not with everything you are. This is the third time and I declare it. So long as you exist you shall be known as the Abusive Man, so that everyone knows who you are and they can’t be gaslit by your shit.”

The Abusive Man said nothing.

“You have two options,” I said. “Either get into that belt and be bound, or I make this circle smaller, then dash you with so much salt that you lose your essence.”

The Abusive Man gave me a long look before he disappeared into the belt. I walked into the circle pulling out a seal. I pasted it on the length of the belt.

“Done,” I muttered under my breath.

“I thought you wanted me to take you to the Alabaster’s sanctuary,” said Chompers. “What use is this digression?”

“Do you want me to free her so bad?” I asked.

“I’m hoping that you die in the process,” he said.

“Blunt,” I said. I took a long breath, centring myself before I let it out.

I’d hoped that I would have the hallow ready for this excursion, but things hadn’t panned out. Carving was _really_ hard and the intricacies required for a rune that would make sure the essences I poured into the mask wouldn’t seep out were hard to do. But I could do other things, such as taking out the guards around the Alabaster’s domain or scouting the location so I knew how to approach the problem.

“Let’s go,” I said after I’d put on my shoes.

He led the way, taking off in a run that was a little ungainly.

I pulled out my phone and checked my messages. Victoria had sent a message an hour ago that she was at Palanquin. I sent her a message that I was done and for them to meet me at the Docks. Dangerous to be out alone, but I trusted Amber, who would warn me if there was anything dangerous in our path, my diagrams, which made me harder to perceive, and my Sight, which was good at giving me a sense of my surroundings.

We didn’t run into any trouble on our way to the Docks, and Victoria, Eric and three members of Palanquin had already arrived, standing beside a beat-up pickup truck. It was Melanie, Newter and a woman whose name I hadn’t asked. She was tall and curvy, with curly brown hair and a face filled with freckles; to the Sight she had cracks running through her, but they were neat and geometric, and within those cracks was a liquid that glowed bright red.

“Only three of you?” I said.

“We ran into trouble,” said Melanie. “Others know that the Protectorate will have their hands tied and they’re being nuisances. Gregor and Shamrock are protecting Palanquin and the area around it.”

I frowned. “I’m just not sure about the service I’ll be getting when there’s so few of you,” I said. “I wanted all of you.”

“Our deal didn’t specify all of us,” said Melanie. “Only my team. This isn’t the entirety of my team, but it’s still my team.”

“This feels like it’s already falling apart,” Chompers muttered sardonically. He looked at Victoria. “And you thought I’d fail.”

“Who’s the little guy?” Newter asked. He was narrowly built and his skin was a pale orange, his hair a soft pink.

“Chompers,” I said absently, my attention on Victoria. Her expression was twisted, and so were the others in little ways with the exception of Melanie.

“I didn’t think things would pan out this way,” said Victoria. “I told her that this was important—”

“But Palanquin and everything there is more important to me,” said Melanie. “I’d rather there be bad blood between us than for Palanquin to be harmed.”

“Okay,” I said, my tone short. “Not fine, but it’s not like I can fight this, right?”

“You could,” said Eric. “Maybe not win, but you could fight it.”

Beneath my cloak I crossed my arms.

“Now that that’s been settled we can move on,” said Melanie. She was dressed in darkened military fatigues, a clunky revolver holstered to her side and a knife at her back. She wore a bulletproof vest with a lot of compartments, all of them full and bright to the Sight.

“Before we do,” I said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know your name.”

“You may call me Spitfire,” she said. When she opened her mouth embers escaped and quickly dimmed into flakes.

“Because she _spits_ fire,” Newter said with a grin.

“Awful,” said Eric. “ _Awful_.”

“Shut up,” he said with a chuckle.

Spitfire was dressed similarly to Melanie — military fatigues and a bulletproof vest — but she didn’t have guns or any of the other accessories that Melanie had. Newter was dressed in cargo pants, no shirt and only a bulletproof vest; he wore no shoes and had bandages around his hands.

Melanie reached into one of her pockets and pulled out six earbuds. “Say a word, Bogeyman.” Chompers looked at me and I nodded.

“Hello,” he said, singsong.

Melanie nodded. “These will filter out Abyssal sounds with the exception of Chompers,” she said. “I could have made it broader, but we need the awareness that sound provides. Even this is a risk, but it’s better than being drawn in by the Bell Woman. All of you, be on alert. Bogeyman, lead the way.”

“Go,” I said and Chompers did.

“How did the binding go?” I asked Victoria. “Did you find an Other?”

She nodded, then reached into her backpack and pulled out a glass bottle filled with dark water. When I looked with the Sight, I saw a pair of glowing red eyes within.

“The binding isn't very good,” she said. “One use and it’s out of service, but that’s the best I could do in such short notice.”

“Better than me,” said Eric. “Couldn’t find anything interesting. Had to get my mom to give me some of her stuff in return for chores.”

“A travesty,” said Victoria.

“Which one?” Eric asked. They both smiled. 

“What do you normally go for?” Newter asked. He walked on all fours, which was a little strange. It made me remember how I’d felt when I’d been drenched in wolf blood. I didn’t have similar feelings with the deer blood, but that was probably because I hadn’t used a lot of it.

“Keep your eyes out,” said Melanie. I noticed for the first time that they’d settled into a formation around us — Newter and Spitfire to our right and left, while Melanie walked out ahead just behind Chompers, her head constantly moving.

We were in the few places in the Docks with light; the buildings were filled with people, but with everything that had been going on between E88 and ABB, everyone in the neighbourhood knew not to look outside to avoid trouble.

“Anything fun or cool,” said Eric. “Too many people think the practice is stuffy and serious. I do _not_ want that to be me.”

“Hey, I don’t,” said Victoria.

“You’re an academic to be,” said Eric. “You do things stuffily. If Chompers was right about the Goblin Crone and its special babies, then”—he pulled out a deck of cards, blank at the front and with an intricate diagram at the back—“I’ll have these babies.”

“You’re such a _boy,”_ Victoria muttered.

Sirens were audible in the distance. We fell silent and waited. They moved away.

We continued, moving into an area with more buildings that were boarded up, with alleys that had trash cans lit on fire and people standing around them. There was a web connected between one of them and me. When I looked, it was the Spirit of the Docks.

“Can you give me a sec?” I said.

“No,” said Melanie, “but we’ll wait for you.”

Good enough. I jogged up to them. Most of the people there moved further into the distance while the Spirit of the Docks stayed near the fire. “Hey.”

“Taylor Hebert,” he said, his voice gruff. “Danny’s daughter.” He looked different than before, his skin darker and his eyes almost black.

“Yeah.” I thought for a moment before I shrugged off my backpack and pulled out a few sandwiches and some juice bottles. I handed them over. “I don’t know if you need to eat.”

“I eat in other ways,” he said. “But _they’d_ like it.” He gestured at the people who’d moved further into the alley. I walked into the alley. They collectively stepped further back. It was strange to think that they’d be scared of me. I dropped the food and walked away. “Careful out there. There’s trouble tonight.”

“I’ll try,” I said in leaving.

***

 _“Something’s out there,”_ said Amber in the same moment as a feeling of wrongness radiated through me. My stride broke and I stopped, my attention on my Sight, scanning for any webs that might be looking for us. None had connected, at least none that I could see.

“What’s going on?” Victoria asked. The others had stopped.

We were in a narrow street, a large warehouse on one side, all its windows broken and divided from us with a rusted, metal fence; and a series of shops on the other ends, all of them boarded shut. The area we were in had no light, which meant the others had to work with the low light of buildings in the distance. It was the reason our pace had slowed.

“Amber says there’s something out there,” I said.

“Might be instincts from your deer self,” said Melanie, her voice a whisper. She now wore a set of goggles, very likely helping her see in the dark. “If you have any more blood, now might be a good idea to refresh your working.”

I nodded and shrugged off my backpack. There were a few jars filled with deer blood. I poured it as Elwin had taught me, standing in a place that had a sliver of light and looking up with my eyes closed. The gifted wolf blood had been warm, filled with life and power, but I didn’t have the same enchantments on my jars that Elwin had on his bowl. The deer blood was cold and slower to move, but I felt as its power seeped into me.

“I’ve seen a lot of things,” Eric muttered. “But blood still grosses me out.”

“Tell me about it,” Newter muttered.

“Don’t you spit on people?” said Eric.

Newter shrugged.

I ignored them. I didn’t want to suffuse myself entirely with the blood, which meant I stopped and worked the blood in, made sure it got into my ears and around my eyes, some of it under my nostrils. When I was done I blinked and felt as the darkness lifted to give me better night vision. Within the new Sight there were a few roving webs in search of connection.

“I see them,” I said.

“Then you’ll work with Chompers,” said Melanie. “Try and make sure that we don’t run into anything.”

“Okay,” I said.

I walked up front beside Chompers, Melanie to my side. Her head was always moving, turning to look into dark corners. I didn’t have to do the same thing. I turned my head without turning it, watching the loose webs that fluttered in the air. A part of me wanted to search out what might be on the other end, but between goat and deer, both prey animals, they gave me the sense that that was a bad idea.

The path we took wasn’t straight because some of the connections moved with more of a pattern, always being drawn towards a sound.

“How close are we to the sanctuary?” Melanie asked and I repeated the question.

“Close,” said Chompers.

She looked around. “Let’s stop,” she said. She reached into a pocket at the front of her vest and pulled out a sack that should have been too big to fit. She shook it a few times before she reached in and pulled out a large plate with a roasted chicken on it; she pulled out another and it had a stack of money.

“Oh, _fuck_ that smells delicious,” said Eric.

He was right, it was still warm with vapour rising off of it. The wind caught it and my stomach twisted. We’d been walking a while and after running around to bind the Abusive Man, I was a little peckish. I reached into my backpack and pulled out a sandwich and some juice.

“Do you guys want some?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Eric.

“How many sandwiches do you have in there?” Victoria asked.

“A few,” I said. “I didn’t pack enough when we went to the Friend. At least that’s how it felt. I didn’t want the same thing to happen.”

Melanie gave me a look and I couldn’t quite read her expression. “Be on guard,” she said. “We’ll try diplomacy first. We’ll talk to the Hunger Spirit because it might be the one hardest to deal with.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I tapped some locals on how to placate one and it’s hard,” she said. “It requires a festival at a specific time. There needs to be entertainment and food, certain people of authority, all things we don’t have at the moment.”

“Can’t we build a hallow to bind it?” I asked.

“That’ll be more work,” she said, “and it’ll have its risks. If you can, diplomacy should always be tried.” She took a breath. “I request an audience with the Hunger Spirit which prowls this area! I’ve brought an offering.”

 _“Fuck,”_ I said as a few webs that had been fluttering around were drawn towards us and snapped in place. “There are eight connections attached to us. Do you know anything about this?” I asked Chompers.

“No,” he said. His tongue licked the air. “But I smell something rancid.”

“I looked at some of them,” said Newter. “Rat-things. They might be goblins. Yep, one of them is flashing me right now. It’s _really_ disgusting.”

“The Crone?” I said. I had a lighter in my pocket and I pulled it out. Goblins were weak to elementally infused metal. I’d wound a chain around one arm, with a diagram drawn that would help it keep heat; beneath that was a sleeve and glove that worked to insulate heat. I started to feed heat into the chain.

The skin on Newter’s tail started to change colour, moving from a pale orange to a dark brown before it finally turned black. Newter flicked his tail and an ice crusted sword materialised, spinning through the air. He caught it before it hit the ground.

“We’ll protect you while you talk to the Hunger Spirit,” I said.

Melanie nodded. “Hunger Spirit,” she said. “I am Melanie Fitts, leader of Palanquin, and a Finder who has walked many Paths. I’ve communed with many strange Others and now come here for an audience.”

She wasn’t as loud as the first time, but then her voice reverberated, reaching further. More webs snapped into place and they started to draw closer. One of the webs was thicker, brighter and stronger, and it connected to Melanie.

 _“To the left,”_ said Amber and I turned.

In a hole at the foot of a building, a pair of yellow eyes glowed. A chattering sound started and it was taken up by others. There were too many to count, the sounds overlapping, a veritable cacophony.

_“We’re surrounded.”_

“Stay quiet,” I whispered. “Warn me only if something’s close to attacking me. Something you think I haven’t noticed.”

I unravelled my chain so it hung loose from my left arm, and my right hand took hold of my stick. I spun it with practised ease, ready to move even though the deer part of me wanted to bolt.

“Shouldn’t we draw a circle?” said Victoria. “If we’re going to stay here?”

“That’ll mess up my plans,” said Melanie.

“Should have maybe brought weapon-weapons,” said Eric.

“You’re not really a fighter,” said Victoria.

“Point,” Eric muttered. He had a deck of cards in his hand, not the one from before. This one was much simpler, made out of rigid white paper.

The sounds around us rose higher, louder, then suddenly they ceased. The following silent felt oppressive.

A goblin stepped out from the darkness, tall, navy skinned with bits of white in random places. It wasn’t fat even though it had a protruding belly, its arms were thick and muscular, but short, and its legs were shorter still, hidden by its stomach, which scraped the ground as it walked. The goblin was unclothed save for a crown made in rusted metal, and in its left hand it carried a long pipe.

The goblin stepped forward with bravado, waving its pipe in a circular motion over its head, and a shriek cut into the air. The goblins around us reacted, taking up their chatter once more as if from a cheering crowd.

The goblin’s pipe stopped, pointing at Victoria.

“A challenge?” said Victoria. The goblin grunted. “Let me guess, if we don’t accept you’ll swarm us?” There was another grunt.

“This feels _very_ dangerous,” said Eric, “and _very_ stupid.”

“You don’t have to do this,” I said. “You don’t have to put yourself in danger like this. Not for me.”

“Not for you,” said Victoria. “At least not entirely.” She dropped her backpack, scrounged around, and pulled out some gloves. They had a complicated diagram at the back. “The Hitchhiker caught me by surprise and _shook_ me. I don’t want that ever again. Which is why I dreamed up my Fragile friend to help me get stronger.” She punched her fists together and the lines glowed. “Which is why I started to take my physical training more seriously. I need to do this, to feel better, to prove to myself that I can be strong.”

Victoria stepped forward, without much armour and with no weapons that I could see.

“I need your agreement that if I win this challenge you’ll ensure that all the goblins who are watching won’t attack,” she said.

The Goblin shook its head.

“Then what do I win by fighting you?” she said. “Not being attacked? That’s not a lot of incentive to accept the challenge. It might be better for us to fight, knowing goblins, some of you are going to get one over the other and that’ll screw with your teamwork. We don’t have to worry about the same thing. A free for—”

The goblin grunted and tapped his chest before pointing into the shadows.

“You’ll be our protector if I win?”

The goblin grunted.

“Formalise it, then,” said Victoria. “If I win, you’ll be bound to protect us from all who would seek to attack us, for a period of three day—” The goblin grunted, interrupting her, it slapped its pipe down. “Until first light.”

A grunt.

“I need clear agreement.”

She got a nod.

“By nodding you agree to the terms I set?”

She got another nod.

“There are some Others with different rules of discourse,” said Spitfire. “A nod could mean no.”

“The old way, then,” said Victoria. She spat into her hand. “A handshake.”

The Goblin spat on its hand, a thick, viscous sort of spit that spilled over its hand because of its volume.

“This feels _really_ stupid,” Eric muttered. “And disgusting.”

Victoria and the Goblin came together, and they shook hands before they stepped apart, Victoria flinging some of the excess spit off.

The Goblin was taller and bigger than Victoria, so much that she had to look up, and the pipe it held was longer than Victoria’s arm. The match up didn’t seem fair at _all,_ and all of me was terrified that the wrong move could see Victoria hurt badly.

I stowed my stick and grabbed my flashlight. If it was needed, I’d have to blind the goblin before we went on the attack.

The fight began without warning. The goblin swung and Victoria couldn’t dodge. She brought up her arms and leaned into the swing instead. The pipe met Victoria and her Fragile friend shattered into pieces; around her, the low yellow light that always surrounded her bunched out, becoming thicker and more solid. Her friend was gone but Victoria wasn’t hurt. She grinned as confusion bloomed on the goblin’s small face.

Another swing came from the goblin and Victoria ducked under it. She rushed forward, spun and _kicked._ The light unbunched and the goblin was taken off its feet; flesh was scrapped off its arm and stomach as it landed.

“You’re the aggressor here and I’m defending myself,” said Victoria as the goblin found its feet. “You punched first and I hit back to fend you off. _Yield._ Don’t attack me or my allies, and we won’t have to defend ourselves.”

The goblin grunted and growled before it ran forward waving its stick. Victoria, legs apart and fists up, prepared for the attack. The goblin got close and swung. Victoria jumped back out of reach from the pipe, landed and quickly dashed forward. She hit the goblin in its stomach and the diagrams on her gloves flared. The impact wasn’t as harsh as before - the light hadn’t bunched and unbunched - but it was still hard enough for the goblin to stumble back.

Victoria brought back her arm as the pipe swung back, which meant she missed as the goblin hocked a loogie at her face. The phlegm, green-black with the red of blood, slammed into her face hard enough that she was knocked down; her Fragile friend, which had found a moment to return, was dashed once more and the light around Victoria bunched.

My flashlight came out from under my cloak, my finger on the switch.

Victoria, blind, rolled as the pipe came down. It hit where Victoria’s head had been only a moment before hard enough to crack the ground. The clang was loud, a song that was warped and seemed to take attention, and from the pipe spilled large rats that pounced on Victoria.

“Come on, cuz,” Eric said, his voice thin and reedy.

“How close is the Hunger Spirit?” I asked, my own voice shaky.

“He’s almost here,” said Melanie. Her attention wasn’t on the fight, nor the goblin spectators, but on the far distance.

Rats were all over Victoria, trying and failing to bite. She ignored them, instead pulling at the clumps of phlegm stuck to her face. The goblin got close and Victoria rolled back and onto her feet, dodging a swing.

“She’s using her Sight?” I asked.

“Sight and some luck,” Eric said. The goblin thrust its pipe and managed to land a hit, dashing Victoria’s shield. “But banking on luck’s dangerous. The spirits don’t like imbalance, good or bad, not to mention stuff like the rule of three.” 

The rats were still on her and with her shield gone they could attack. Victoria waved her hand and one of the rats seemed to find itself in the way; it was sent skidding into the darkness. But that was only one rat and there were at least six still on her, biting through her clothes to get at the skin beneath.

Victoria’s focus was on the phlegm. When enough clumps had been pulled free, she charged forward under the goblin’s swing. All the light around her unbunched as she punched, knocking off all the rats that had been on her and sending the goblin rocketing into the air, spinning head over heels before it hit the ground and skidded to a stop, more flesh scarred.

Victoria was breathing hard, clothes torn and ripped with phlegm still on her face; her eyes were wide and her hands shook before she curled them into fists.

“Twice you’ve attacked and twice I’ve beaten you back!” she shouted. “Know, goblin, by the rule of three, one of our oldest tropes, my third defence will have you down and defeated!”

“Risky,” Newter muttered.

_An oath. If she didn’t make this count she’d lose power._

“Hunger Spirit!” said Melanie. “I request an audience!”

The web between her and the spirit flared, and the Hunger Spirit materialised, arriving with a pang of hunger.

The spirit was skin and bones, with the former so tightly stretched that it looked like if it moved too quickly skin would tear; his head was on the big side, eyes large and bloodshot, with stringy hair that fell over his face. As thin as the man was, his belly was large and round, and with the Sight I saw as faces pushed against his stomach.

The Hunger Spirit opened its mouth, and the smell of shit cut into the air, dense and oppressive, making my eyes water and my nose run; it was so bad it almost made me miss the fact that its mouth was filled with needles, but not so bad that I lost my appetite. He said slurred words in an Asian language I couldn’t understand.

Melanie responded in the same language.

My attention turned back to Victoria as the goblin found its feet.

It was banged up, skin torn and blood flowing freely. Victoria had found her footing, fists held up as she prepared for the coming attack. The goblin spun its pipes over its head then started to beat its chest, grunting loudly with each impact.

The chattering started, so loud it was hard to hear the conversation between Melanie and the Hunger Spirit. Melanie pulled a pen from her many pockets, clicked it twice before she stabbed it against the ground; ink splashed out and took the form of two circles, one around the Hunger Spirit and a greater, more complicated circle that surrounded her.

Their conversation continued, inaudible.

The goblin slammed the pipe against the ground as it sauntered forward. Rats spilled out, some as big as cats, and they all took off towards Victoria, in seconds forming a veritable swarm.

“You master minions!” said Victoria. “Then by the rules of equity I’m allowed the same!”

She stretched one hand towards us, twisting it around one of the webs, and pulled as she said, “Come!”

Her backpack fell and spilled open, and the bottle filled with murky water shot out. She caught it as the first of the rats was about to reach her and she slammed it against the ground; water splashed out and swept the rats back. An arm, long and dark, speared out of the water and cut through the nearest rats. The monster, tall, with inky black skin and glowing red eyes, pulled itself out of the water and started to sweep through the tide of rats, cutting them like a hot knife through butter.

The rats were quickly felled and the Other rushed forward towards the goblin, reaching it in three steps.

“What kind of Other is that?” I asked.

“Well Dweller,” Eric said, relief audible as we watched the Well Dweller and the Goblin meet. Pipe met the Well Dweller but the impact was ignored; a long arm swiped and blood flew free. The goblin stepped back, grabbed one of its pecs and squeezed. Dark liquid shot out and burned the skin it touched. “Usually that’s where they live, but we found this one in a hole in an alley. Vicky was lucky Mom knows a priest or the binding would have been harder.”

“I ran across it once,” I said. “Ran out of the alley it was in and it didn’t chase.”

“They’re sort of bound to their wells,” he said.

The goblin mewled as its stomach was cut and the chattering around us turned to laughter. The goblin roared, spun its pipes then pointed.

“Equity! Go! Go! Go!” the goblin shouted and vermin came out of the woodwork.

“Of course,” Spitfire said. Victoria’s eyes widened and she stepped back towards us as goblins, the biggest the size of a large dog, all of them with rat-like features, ran out of the darkness.

“Wasn’t this supposed to be one-on-one?” I asked.

“That was the implication,” Spitfire said. “But the thing about implication is that they’re _inferred,_ not stated. Get ready.”

“Can we join the fray?”

“By the rules of Karma we’re justified to defend ourselves,” said Victoria as she reached us. “And I’ve already set the ground for you guys to help.”

Most of the goblins attacked the Well Dweller, climbing onto its back and nipping into skin. The Well Dweller fought valiantly, cutting through any goblin it caught, but there were a _lot_ of them and some had tricks. Something detonated and the Well Dweller was pushed off its feet, a chunk of its mass gone and dark, watery blood falling in a deluge. 

I flicked on my flashlight as some goblins tried to attack us, and they squealed as they were blinded. Chompers vomited out a mass of interconnected limbs that caught a few goblins before he slurped it all back in; and Newter hocked a loogie and spat. Most of the smaller goblins he hit toppled over while a few only purred and screamed for more.

“Fight for us and I’ll give the _one_ who succeeds a bucket full!” Newter said. Five of the bigger goblins started to attack their compatriots, the number growing as Newter gave more of them a high.

One got close, waving a slingshot piled with a clump of something brown. Spitfire stepped in its way. The sound of an egg cracking reverberated, and the woman breathed out, embers catching the air. It hit three goblins and they burst into flames, the smell of rank, burnt meat hitting us.

Spitfire turned to breathe on another seven goblins and I caught sight of her face. It was cracked in geometric shapes, and within were three people contorted so they could fit into her chest, peeking out of her neck, two glowing an orange-red, while the last looked like glowing rock. She breathed once more and embers from the glowing spirits escaped her mouth to become wisps. They caught the air and flew to their target, and once they hit, fire bloomed.

“Eric,” said Victoria as the Well Dweller was overwhelmed and more goblins came out of the woodwork. I bashed a few with my chain, but there weren’t a lot getting through; the ember had found an air current that let it swirl around us. “Stampede them”

“We might need that for later,” said Eric.

“We’ll deal with that when we do,” said Victoria. “Just do it. Spitfire, hold off on the fire for a bit, do it again at the appropriate moment.”

Spitfire’s face clicked into place and the embers in the air dimmed faster.

The goblins saw the opening and tried to attack. Newter spat and got more to our side. In the distance, the Challenger goblin was beating the Well Dweller to a pulp, cackling as it did.

Victoria pulled out a piece of chalk from her backpack and started to draw a circle around us, freehand but straight. Eric reached into his pockets for his fancy deck. He pulled out a card that glowed bright, the picture of horses running on the front.

“Rush forth!” Eric shouted, the card held up. “Stampede our goblin foes!”

Whinnying echoed as horses jumped out of the card and ran forward. They weren’t solid, not completely, and from the whipping wind that came with them, I guessed they were wind spirits changed into horses. They ran forward and bowled over every goblin in their way. As they did, they drew in wind spirits to solidify themselves, growing in number.

Victoria had left a gap in the circle which meant we still weren’t protected.

Newter whispered something into his sword that I couldn’t hear.

Spitfire’s face cracked open and embers flew out, catching the wind so they could leave the circle in the gap. The moment a few embers were out Victoria closed the circle.

“Back,” Newter said to Victoria. He stabbed his sword at the chalk line and a diagram unfurled, and using the chalk as a base it became more intricate, spiralling in that way snowflakes could, filled with circles and symbols I didn’t understand. But I got the gist, that the snowy effect was pointed _out._

As a group we closed our eyes, covered our ears and looked down.

Even with my eyes closed I still saw and felt the light. I heard the whoosh of wind coming alight, then a shockwave that crashed into me and pushed me off my feet, the whirl of hot and cold air whipping around me.

I’d fallen so many times that an instinct had formed. I let myself be pushed but remained aware of where the ground was. My back hit the ground first and I rolled with the impact. As my shoes touched the ground, I pushed myself up so I could slide back.

I opened my eyes.

Some goblins had been burned to a crisp, some were on the ground, burn marks on them, while others were covered in ice or had snow in their fur or skin. Around us there were spots that were aflame, while the air had flutters of snow.

The circle had been dashed by the explosion, but Melanie and the Hunger Spirit were safe in their circles, still talking. Victoria was on her feet and she strode forward towards the large goblin which, though burned and disfigured, was still alive, its breathing harsh.

“Goblin,” Victoria intoned. “Name yourself or see yourself named by me.”

The goblin said something, but my attention was on the others.

Spitfire hadn’t been affected by the explosion, nor had Newter for that matter. I got on my feet, my heart beating hard and a ringing in my ears, but ultimately alright. The only person who looked shaken by everything was Eric, who lay on his back, breathing hard. He’d panicked when Victoria had been in trouble while in the Friend’s Road, and he might be feeling similarly here.

“We entered into a contest,” Victoria said, “and I fought by terms you set. Per our arrangement you were to protect us from our enemies at my victory. I proclaim that I have won, speak against me if you dare, but know if you speak untruth, I’ll challenge your claim and by the rules we follow, I will have leave to exact a steeper price.”

“You fucking won,” the goblin muttered.

I went over to Eric and offered a hand. He took it.

“You still have your cards?” I said. He nodded. “Let’s bind the goblins that are still alive.”

“Yeah,” he said. He swallowed and looked towards Victoria. The goblin found its feet, tried to walk and fell. It hit the ground but folded into itself. Its skin dried and flaked until it disappeared, leaving behind a rusted pipe as long as my arm. “Yeah,” he said again. 

There were sirens in the distance, but as I listened they weren’t coming any closer.

***

We had six goblins bound, as well as a swarm of rats as big as cats, their tails tied together in a bundle. Eric, once he’d calmed down, was good at drawing bindings which didn’t need the permission of the Other. He drew a circle around the fallen goblin, then another around his card, before he connected the two circles together with a diagram; with another diagram he twisted and the two circles were drawn together and the Other was left bound in a card, its name at the top as well as a description of what it could do.

“Single uses,” said Eric, his voice a bit breathy. “If I made a deal, then maybe I’d get more, but this draws from some Japanese teachings Uncle Mike taught me.”

 _“Westernised_ Japanese teachings,” said Victoria, her pipe held over one shoulder. The thing was long and thin, rust coloured and sometimes seeping out a thick, goopy liquid with a pungent smell. Victoria’s gloves were stained from having held it, and wherever it touched, it left a similar stain. “I don’t think we have the traditional clout to pull off their binding style.”

“Some places with more Asian influences do,” said Newter. “New York and L.A. are the ones I’ve been.”

“I’ve heard,” said Victoria. “Once I graduate I think I’m going to take a gap year, travel the country so I can talk to different practitioners and different Others.”

“Auntie Carol agreed to that?” Eric said.

“I told her it would help me choose what I want to study,” she said, “and what I want to do with myself in the future.”

“Travelling is fun most of the time,” said Newter. “But it’s better to start things off in Protectorate cities and towns because those have more law and order. You should _see_ some of the small towns that exist out there, especially those that are vying for lordships.”

“Like Brockton Bay is now?” I said.

Melanie was still conversing with the Hunger Spirit. The line around the spirit had faded, but Melanie had pulled out more food, setting the plates so that they overlapped to form a circle around the spirit. The circle around her was still intact but it was also thinning out.

There was a _lot_ of fire damage around us, but the fire from the horse-wind spirit hybrid had been short lived, and we’d put out the lingering fires in the vicinity.

“I mean, how many sirens do you hear out there?” said Newter. “Why do you think an _explosion_ wasn’t worth their attention?”

_Because there’s trouble out there, just like the Spirit of the Docks said._

“There’s the sludge left behind by the Well Dweller,” said Eric, interrupting our conversation. I frowned. “That’ll have to be an enchantment base. The Other’s dead, but power doesn’t die. It could make a cool object or, if you’re into that kind of thing, you can rub it all over your face to get its magic.”

I frowned again. “I don’t think I’m comfortable with that,” I said.

“That’s the line, huh?” said Eric. “I was wondering about that.” He bent down and started to draw a circle around the dark sludge where the Well Dweller had died.

The joke was probably supposed to ease some of the tension between me and Newter, but it didn’t help. Mr Calvert had told me that he’d keep the Nazis busy while I dealt with Chompers and the Alabasters, and now that I thought about it, all those sirens were probably because he was making a move to protect me. How many people would be hurt because of me?

_If that’s the case then I have to make this count._

“Chompers,” I said. The Bogeyman turned towards me. “You said the Goblin Crone was a mother, does she raise children?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Then this goblin could be one of her children,” I said. “We could use it to get a bead on the Goblin Crone. Either to call it forth or to track it so we can bind it.”

“If it’s in our path,” said Spitfire. “I know Mel, she won’t want to go around chasing some goblin, especially when her hand’s going to be shaky for a while.”

I frowned in confusion.

“The pen she used,” said Newter. He was without his ice sword.“It allows you to draw a circle that’s in your mind by stabbing it into the ground, but it makes your hand shaky in moments of importance. Mel’s a good shot most of the time, but now she’ll miss more than she’s used to.”

I swallowed, a bit frustrated. “Then evasion. It’ll help to get a sense of the webs around it.”

“I’ll focus on that,” said Victoria. She pulled out a small notepad from her backpack and drew a circle, then touched a bit of the pipe on the page, where it left a stain. She drew another circle and wrote ‘Goblin Crone’ before she connected the two lines together. She frowned. “That’s going to be harder to read than I thought.”

“If working with connections was easy more people would be doing it,” said Eric.

Eric was about done binding the dark sludge when Melanie broke the circle of now empty plates, then turned and broke the ink line that kept her from us. The moment she did my stomach twisted and the lingering smell of food made it _hurt._ Before the feeling could settle the Hunger Spirit disappeared.

“He’s agreed to stop guarding the Alabaster’s domain,” said Melanie, a pointed look directed at Chompers.

“How do you know it’s an Alabaster?” I asked.

“Because I asked,” she said. “You’re trying to bind an Alabaster?” she asked me.

“I’m trying to free an Alabaster.”

“Good,” she said, “because I didn’t want all the karmic backlash to splash in my direction.”

“What did you promise the spirit?” Victoria asked.

“For six months it will always have a seat at the Green Oasis,” she said. “There’ll be a plate of food, a shot and a glass of beer. It can’t have its native celebrations, but it hopes the ritual will undo its damnation.” She glanced at her watch. “Bogeyman, continue leading us. Catch me up on any observations and plans you made while I was in the circle.”

***

“Our destination is on the other side,” said Chompers.

We stood at the mouth of a narrow alley, two tall buildings on either side, made of old brick and with their windows too high for a normal person to climb through. We were surrounded by darkness, and the alley itself seemed to be darker still, overgrown with drooping plants that grew along the walls and crevices that oozed or leaked.

“This feels like a trap,” said Eric. “Anyone else getting that vibe?”

“Is this a trap?” I asked Chompers.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve walked through without a problem.”

“Do you think the same thing will happen to me?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “But then, my walks and yours are different. You have enemies that would see you dead for advantage. I have people who would bind me if they ran across me, but none I would call an enemy.”

“I don’t like the look of this alley,” said Melanie. “Is there any other way through?”

I repeated the question.

“Through the warehouse,” he said with a point. “There are other alleys but they’re further away and they could extend our trip. None the way we came without getting too close to a Warren.”

“Direction?” said Victoria, which I repeated. Chompers pointed. Victoria took a few steps in the direction while looking at her paper. “That direction is closer to the Goblin Crone. If the Pipe Goblin is anything to go by, we could be fighting a _lot_ of her children, some that can control other small creatures; and I don’t think we can do another area effect like we did before.”

Melanie frowned. “There are still three Bogeymen in our path,” she said, “and they thrive on dark places. Some have been known to be able to impart their energy into objects so they have an effect—”

“Like an enchantment?” Victoria asked.

“Similar, but driven in the direction that they—”

**“Come to me, my flock! Oh, how long I’ve searched for you!”**

One of the webs that had been fluttering around us resolved.

“Fuck, grab her!” Melanie shouted.

My instincts were primed and I spotted the tail with the corner of my eye. I ducked low while pulling free my stick and unravelling my chain. I swung. Melanie and Spitfire were the closest; the former dodged but the latter didn’t move fast enough and I smashed her arm as she brought it up. She stumbled into Eric and Victoria.

**“Come! Come! Come to me!”**

Newter readied to spit and Chompers vomited goblin-filled viscera; the goblins went on the attack, forcing the others to spread out, focusing on _them rather than_ on me. Chompers jumped forward as Melanie darted towards me, mouth open for a bite. She stopped short. Victoria swung her pipe and hit Chompers hard enough he was sent back; rats spilled out and darted towards Chompers and me. He vomited another mass of viscera, swallowed it then threw it back up, and this time the rats were on our side.

Embers started to fill the air as Spitfire’s face cracked open, but there weren’t a lot because she didn’t want to hit her allies.

Too many people and the jumble wouldn’t help me as much as I wanted.

I whirled around and ran.

Away from them.

Towards my shepherd.

Towards my herd.

They would chase, I knew.

They were wolves. Sent to kill or steal me away. But I had to go back. She’d been looking for me for a very long time and I had to find her and be with her.

I reached into my ear and pulled out the earbud.

The sound of a bell tolling became audible.

How long had that been there and I hadn’t listened? How long had I been so close and yet so far away?

The web from me to my shepherd went bright. I focused and saw her, wearing a dress that had once been blood but was now muddy and bloody. My brothers and sisters were with her, one of them serving to sit our Shepherd in his soft, woollen mass.

The bell tolled, a sharp sound that seemed to hit at walls and bounce around further than it should; our bond got thicker, stronger and straighter, _pulling_ me towards it.

Another web got thick and I turned to see Newter close behind me. He was _fast,_ darting forward on all fours, his tail stuck up straight. He spat. I raised an arm and with it my cloak. One move to guard against the spit while another hooked my stick into my belt and brought out my flashlight. I listened for the slap of footsteps against the ground, then opened my cloak with my light flicked on; blinding as the light was, it didn’t hit its target.

I heard a slap behind me and whirled around. A tail came at me at speed. I let myself fall and the tail flew past. I rolled to a stand, closed my eyes and flipped my flashlight in the air while I unhooked my stick.

“Spirits guide the light into my attacker’s eyes in hopes I might escape!”

Victoria had done something similar, but she’d phrased it better, working karma to her advantage. I _hoped_ that it would work for me too and Newter would be blinded, that I could use his web to get a sense of his position to attack. It didn’t work. His tail smacked my arm and I lost my stick. My chain came up, whirling blindly, and I heard a grunt and the smell of burnt flesh.

My flashlight landed harshly on the ground.

My eyes opened. Newter had stepped away from my spinning chain, a burn mark across his arm. He prowled around me, forcing me to move to and fro to keep him in the direction of the chain; his skin started to change colour, becoming a network of pictures that drew me in. It felt like the wolf blood, where I started to lose myself.

I turned away and looked at him with my peripheral vision. 

I remembered what Victoria had done with the bottle.

“Stick, _come!”_ I said and the stick eagerly leapt into my waiting hand. I swung as Newter pounced; he stopped on a dime, mouth puckered. I ducked low while swinging my chain at him. He looked down and spat.

We were too close and neither of us could dodge.

My chain hit his chest but some of its length hit his neck and face; his spit hit me square in the face and darkness fell around me.

***

I didn’t dream. There was only darkness and then light, then the terrifying sensation of coming to with my chest aching, my surroundings unfamiliar and aspects of my clothing having changed.

My weapons had been taken away, so too had my backpack, my cloak and my stick _._

I woke up in a circle that looked like a connection breaker, though it had notation I hadn’t ever thought to include in how I did the symbols. The words ‘Bell Woman Bogeyman’ were written near the ‘T’ shapes that worked to ward away attention. I looked down with the Sight and saw my web to her was thin.

I swallowed. “What happened?” I asked.

Victoria and Eric were hurt. Victoria’s injuries were mostly hidden by her clothes, but when I looked with the Sight, she had a branching network of darkness spreading up her arm, and her forehead was covered in sweat. Eric was lying on the ground; he had a cut on his forehead, his hair had blood and one hand had a bite mark.

Newter looked the most okay from Palanquin, his only injury the burn mark across his arm, neck and cheek, all of which looked like they were healing; Spitfire had her arm in a sling, very likely from my hit; and Melanie had a bandage on her leg, sopping with blood.

“You attacked us,” said Spitfire. “The Matron found space to appear and she stabbed Victoria with a needle.”

I swallowed. “I’m sorry,” I said.

“Not entirely your fault,” said Victoria.

“Where’s Chompers?” I asked as I looked around. I couldn’t see him.

“He was trying to protect you from us so you could get to where you were going,” said Victoria.

“The Bell Woman,” I said as my mind caught up with me. “I thought the earbuds meant she couldn’t call us.”

“We should have considered the relationship between sheep and goats,” said Melanie. “Considered that the woman might be a _shepherd_ and that she might call you because sometimes goats and sheep go hand-in-hand.”

“We had to beat Chompers into submission,” said Victoria. “He’s the one who bit Mel’s leg. We finally managed to get him. Mel shot him with a very old bullet that would keep him in place.”

My heart skipped a beat. “He’s not dead is he?” I asked. “Because if he’s dead then he could pull the Alabaster into the Abyss with him.”

“He’s not dead,” said Victoria.

“But?” I said.

“But I bound him and he seemed happy about it,” said Melanie. “While we were dealing with the Matron and some goblins who caught wind of the commotion he whispered a message to the Clerk before we noticed he was an enemy.”

“What was the message?” I asked.

“He told the Alabaster to run,” said Melanie.

_No. I can’t lose this. I can’t fail her._

“How long have I been out?” I asked and I left the circle, heading for my stuff. Backpack on, stick in a loop in my belt, knife at my back, flashlight stowed. I almost put on the cloak before I remembered the Bell Woman.

“Ten minutes,” said Victoria, her voice laced with pain. “What are you going to do?”

“Run to my house. I have the Alabaster’s head there, as well as a lot of blood. I could use it to make a circle.”

“You’re _hunting_ an Alabaster?” said Melanie. “That’s going to fucking hard because a lot of people have tried, they’ve _very_ good at running and, with their foresight, they’ll lead you to places that could see you hurt or killed while you try to hunt them.”

“Then I’ll get help,” I said. “I’m sorry, but can you get out of here on your own? I have to go.”

“You’re going to go out there alone?” said Eric, a hint of incredulity in his voice.

“This is important,” I said, “and I’m worried I’ll fail if I don’t take this chance. Half the work’s done, I don’t have to worry about the gamble of my ‘key’ not working. I can chase her, close her off and…think about how to free her from Chompers when that’s done.”

“Give me permission to tell others and you could get more help,” said Victoria. “Colin works with how people travel, Vista knows a spirit that can do the same thing. They can help.”

I bit my lip, thinking about Mr Calvert and his plans. I could call him but that would be wasting time. I needed to move. I’d warn him after as I ran.

I nodded. “Permission given. Be safe,” I said and, with a focus on my Sight, I started running.

A web flared and I looked at the person on the other end. Newter had joined me.

“Why?” I asked.

“I’m not as hurt as the others,” he said, “and Victoria explained, you’re trying to make the Nazis weaker, all of us have a part to play in that battle.”

I felt a little better, lighter on my feet, buoyed up by a sense of righteousness.

Together we ran.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Juff over on the Cauldron discord for his work on editing and proofreading this chapter.

_“Trouble,”_ said Amber.

I’d travelled twice through the Garden Route, and by dint of its passive boon, I could never make a trip without finding _something_ interesting. Usually it was innocuous, someone interesting or peculiar, something mundane or magical, and other times a rogue Other. It had never been an attack.

Now, with us running through an area where Others felt like they could get away with being more chaotic, my ‘boon’ expressed itself in the form of three Others blocking our way.

Three sheep stood in the middle of the road, heads turned towards us and their mouths working as they chewed grass. They were big and muscular, with clean, fluffy wool. They could have been beautiful, a sign of love, care and devotion, but they were from the Abyss and that place was unsettling: each of the sheep had human faces, a normal nose, mouth and ears, but a bone structure that pushed those features forward; when they opened their mouths, the teeth were too straight, human in a way that shouldn’t have fit; and they stared us down with unblinking eyes.

“The Bell Woman isn’t close,” I said, my heart racing. I didn’t know how far the bell’s toll reached and since neither of us had picked up another earbud, there was always the possibility that I might be drawn in again. But I was a better fighter with my cloak and I was scared that I might mess things up without it.

“I’m still afraid of that line between you and her,” said Newter. Which solidified that I couldn’t put on my cloak. I started to unravel my chain, my entire body shaking from fear and near exhaustion. “No,” he said. “Get ready to run.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked, my breaths coming out harsh.

“Be awesome,” he said.

Newter stepped forward, his skin starting to change colour.

The sheep stood and the sound of leather ripping reverberated. They became large men who wore woollen loincloths and vests, each with human arms and hands wielding rusted sickles, and with hairy, hoofed legs. They were all muscular, their skin marred with scars, lashes and stitches, all badly healed. Their faces were human shaped, but their eyes were still those of sheep, yellow with rod-like pupils that lay sideways, glowing whenever light hit. 

Their breaths came out hard and sharp, loud and _wet,_ and though it wasn’t cold, a plume of fog rose up from their noses.

Newter darted forward and one of the men responded in kind, hoofs clopping as he charged much faster than a person his size should. Newter spat and the man brought up his sickle to block; with cat-like grace Newter leapt, his body angled so he’d land feet first. The man brought up an arm to guard. They met, Newter touching ground on the man’s bare arm, and the sheep-man toppled.

Newter was agile, and he used the falling man as a support to jump off. He soared over the pair who were still up, landed on the other side and r _an._ The remaining men gave chase without thought for their fallen brother.

It was the same thing he’d tried to do with me, using a diagram on his skin to increase a connection so they would chase him.

The three disappeared into an alley, the sheep-men bashing through obstacles while Newter jumped over them with ease.

I thought about binding the fallen sheep-man, but who knew how long I’d have until he woke up. I didn’t couldn’t take the risk. The Alabaster was more important.

I pulled out my phone as I ran, dialling Mr Calvert. Between how tired I was and having to keep an eye out for any danger my pace slowed. The phone rang a few times before it was picked up.

 _“Taylor,”_ said Mr Calvert. _“You’re running.”_

“Yeah,” I said. “Things went to shit. Chompers is free of my binding, technically, and he used that to get the Alabaster out of her domain. She’s out there running, trying to leave the city.”

I heard a sigh. _“And I had such faith in you,”_ he said.

I swallowed, a little uncomfortable because the words hurt.

“I’m giving chase,” I said. “I’ve got her head, and I’ve purified a deer skull. I’ll be able tap into her power, see paths like she does, use the head to keep track of her and use some of the blood to bind her in a circle.”

 _“A positive binding,”_ he said. _“Good. That’s more polite and less likely to result in karmic backlash.”_

I didn’t mention that I hadn’t known.

“Another thing,” I said, already knowing that I’d be disappointing him again. “Victoria said that she could ask Colin for help. Maybe he can work traffic so the Alabaster doesn’t get out of the city. I was short on time and—”

 _“No,”_ he said. _“This is yours, do what you think is best. I don’t think I can help you, I’ve been busy and had to expend a lot of power tonight.”_

“I heard the sirens—” I started.

 _“To the right,”_ said Amber.

I stopped and twisted, my chain lengthening as I swung. The Other was a child, short and blurry around the edges in the way that spirits and ghosts were; he ducked low and reached - panic and fervour, a strong need to survive - then ran past.

_“He has your knife.”_

Before I could think to go after the kid he’d already run off, finding a hole to scamper through to get into a boarded-up apartment building.

“Keep track of him,” I said to Amber. I started to run again. “Mr Calvert?”

_“I’m still here. Trouble?”_

“A spirit of a child,” I said. “He stole my knife.”

_“You’re still in the Docks?”_

“Yeah.”

 _“Keep track of him. One of the Nazis has a spirit that’s good at stealing things,”_ he said. _“He might have gotten more spirits and echoes along the same lines and he might be using them to protect their other interests.”_

“Okay,” I said. “Help. Can you offer it?”

 _“I’m paying attention to some interests,”_ he said. _“Weren’t you together with Palanquin?”_

“Only three of them and we split up. Victoria and Eric were hurt, so Melanie and Spitfire stayed behind. I’m with Newter who’s leading away some sheep-men.”

He hummed. _“There_ is _someone who is free and in my service, though with your relationship to her—”_

“Sophia,” I said, curt. A twinge had started in my leg from all the running. My brow was drenched with sweat, which reacted badly with the dried blood I had on my face, making it wet in place while it was dry and cracking in others.

I almost burned myself with my chain as I wiped away a bead that threatened to get into my eyes, smudging my glasses a little in the process.

 _“Yes,”_ he said. _“Miss Hess came to me with a proposition. Her and my interests align and, for a price, she could be a sort of enforcer.”_

I frowned. “How does that make sense?” I said. “I thought you talked to her and she didn’t want to join the Undersiders.”

 _“She didn’t,”_ he said. _“But I’ve come to understand Miss Hess a little more. She’s afraid of the prevailing systems we live under; but to her, fear is weakness and she surrounds herself in a toxic sort of strength that alienates more than it invites. The only way she could, in a way, ask for help was if it seemed as though she looked like she didn’t need any. Which is why she came to me after having taken a Familiar and having made a circle for herself.”_

“They’re new,” I said. “Would they really be any help?”

 _“Numbers and power,”_ he said. _“Even if they are inexperienced, they’ll be power she can pull from. They can perform rituals while leaving her free to do other things. Though I should admit I haven’t paid much attention to her and I don’t know the specifics of what she’s planning, if she’s planning anything at all. Here and now, she’s the only person I can reasonably point your way.”_

“The Undersiders?”

 _“Are mending and in reserve,”_ he said. _“They used a lot of power and I don’t think they can bring much to bear tonight.”_

“Okay,” I said. “Call her.”

 _“Taylor, understand, this is only_ one _battle in a world filled with many,”_ he said. _“There are other battles to be fought and it is better to be alive to fight them than to fight now and fail.”_

“In essence, don’t be afraid to bail?” I said.

He chuckled. _“Don’t be afraid to bail,”_ he said.

 _Are you saying that because you really care?_ I thought. _Or to cover your ass._

But the thought wasn’t with any real weight. I felt like he cared enough for it to matter.

I ended the call.

“Newter,” I said and our connection flared. I tried to move through it but it snapped, cut on the other end and left flailing.

_If he can do that he should be fine._

My attention turned to the thread between me and the Bell Woman. It was thin and dim, near breaking, but the thought of putting on my cloak and re-establishing the connection terrified me. Victoria, Eric, Melanie and Spitfire had been hurt because of me. Dennis had told me that the only recourse was to get better, which meant, even though the cloak was comfort, I had to be wary of putting it on until the connection was gone.

 _“Fuck,”_ I muttered as a way to break the connection came to me.

I stopped and pulled off my backpack. A bit of a dig and I found it, the tongue I’d gotten from Chompers: grey-green and filled with a _lot_ of boils, all close to bursting. I bent down and drew a line on the ground, breaking the connection between me and the Bell Woman. It worked, but the tongue burst, the smell of something rank cutting into the air as my hand was drenched by its sticky juices. Spent after a _lot_ of use.

I pulled on my cloak and let out a relieved breath. I was down one power source, but I could make do, especially when the cloak offered so much more.

My legs and chest had ached, and my lungs had started to burn from the run, but as the cloak’s magic started to seep into me, I felt the strain start to diminish.

I sprinted, trusting the cloak to give me stamina.

 _“The boy’s back, to the right,”_ she said and I twisted around, pulling out my stick in the same motion. The boy, coming at a sprint, stabbed forward. I swung and my stick went through. I twisted out of the way from the stab but heard as the knife raked over my cloak.

 _Immaterial,_ I thought. _Ghost or spirit. Mr Calvert mentioned echoes in the same breath but I don’t know how distinct those are._

He spun around and darted forward, knife still ready to stab. My chain whipped through the air, aimed not at him but at the knife. I hit my mark and the knife was wrenched out of his grasp, sent spinning up above us.

“That’s your knife!” the boy shouted. “Spirits, guide it back to her.” He was left dimmer at the declaration.

The line between me and the knife strengthened and grew shorter. I pushed myself back and dodged as the knife flew into the ground where I’d been. The boy had anticipated where the knife would land and he was there to pick it up. He readied a throw.

_He’s going to use the same trick._

“I relinquish my claim on that knife!” I shouted. “I give it to you freely!”

The web between me and the knife dimmed as it flared between him and the knife.

The boy stopped, smiled and ran off.

_Karmic imbalance. It’s better for him if he lets me leave._

_Hopefully._

More running, out of the Docks and into the suburbs. I cut through houses, jumping on fences and running along them before hopping off.

There were less webs around me, which made those that still stuck more noticeable. I turned my head with the Sight and saw Newter, jumping with more grace and landing in runs. There was another one, a familiar web that, as I looked, revealed a dark form who leapt and glided forward through the air, a fox running alongside her, easily keeping up.

“Sophia Hess,” I said and the web resolved. She wasn’t good at connections and now she’d be better able to follow me.

I checked on Dad with the Sight and he was still asleep.

Newter finally caught up. “Sheep are _stubborn,”_ he muttered. “Chased me way longer than I thought they would. Hey, where’s your knife?”

“Gave it away,” I said.

We reached the house. I pulled out a jar of blood and refreshed the connection breaking diagram on my cloak. Newter stayed outside as I went into the basement to retrieve the head and jars of blood from the different sources. I had two sources of power, the umbilical cord I’d gotten from Chompers and a coin from the Garden Route. I chose the former to bring for the night because I still didn’t know what magic the coin had.

A plan had started to form on how I’d make a circle so I went into the kitchen and grabbed some of the scrubby sponges under the sink. I didn’t know how many I’d need so I took all of them, which was a lot because Dad liked to buy in bulk.

When I got outside Sophia and her fox had arrived.

“No lackeys?” I said on exit.

Sophia was a figure in black, dressed in a thin cape with a hood, under which were black padded clothes, a utility belt with a few weapons and a thin backpack that clung to her. She wore a black mask with carvings around the eyes and through the little light that reached her, I saw it was shaped like a fox. 

“They wouldn’t be able to put up with something like this,” she said. “They don’t know enough.”

“Focus,” said Newter. “It looks like there’s history between you guys, but this isn’t the time. We have a mission. Mel has a thing, personal problems should be ignored while on a job and dealt with _after._ ”

I swallowed and nodded. I knew the way and I set the pace. We got to the faerie ring without trouble, though I did see a dark form in the distance, its glowing yellow eyes gazing in our direction. Between blinks the Other was gone.

We got into the hole, walked through and came out in the meadow with my bones. Elwin was there, sitting at the edge of the space on a branch, bathed in daylight even though night had fallen.

He smiled as he spotted us. “You’ve brought new Practitioners,” he said. He let himself fall, twisted and landed lightly. He rushed forward, disappeared behind a tree trunk and appeared to our left. “This is a wonderful night.”

“We can’t stay, Elwin,” I said. “I need the mask. I have to chase the Alabaster.”

He nodded, unsurprised. “That’s how things usually go,” he said. “You must have been close to success.”

“How does that work?” Sophia asked, her tone terse.

“When binding an Alabaster, if it isn’t betrayal, things often work themselves so it’s being chased,” he said. “It will either be an athletic person or an animal depending on the circumstance.”

“Depending on the circumstance?” I asked.

“In a city, the form of a person is easier to work with than a deer,” he said. “Unless there are outside influences.”

“Then can we force it?” I asked. “Can we force it into a form that won’t work for it? A deer in the city?”

“Is there?” he said.

“The wolf!” I said. “If I were a wolf, bathed in its blood, then wouldn’t it be possible for that to change its form? It’s being chased by a wolf, and the appropriate form would be a deer, right? Playing into symbolism and tropes?”

Elwin smiled. It took a second before things clicked and I was truly and deeply unsettled. Was that why he’d given me wolf blood in the first place, because of _this?_ And how did that lend itself to him wanting help against a faerie?

“Elwin, a deal, you give me enough wolf blood to cover me and I’ll look after your plant for another month,” I said, because I didn’t want him to give it to me freely again.

“I accept the deal,” he said. “Come by again so I may give you instructions for the month.” He reached into his parka and pulled out a bowl filled to the brim with blood. “I would suggest this time that you at least not wear shoes.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s pour the blood into the mask first, then I’ll drench myself in the blood.”

“Your mask won’t last,” said Elwin. “Without containment the power will bleed out.”

“It wasn’t meant to last,” I said.

I’d made a deal with the Recluse that his blood would only be used to free the Alabaster. If the Alabaster escaped I didn’t think I would be able to keep chasing her, which meant tonight was the only one I’d have the mask and its power.

My backpack was full and lumpy, with the Alabaster’s head and three jars of blood, each labelled from the people they’d been gotten from. One from the Alabaster, another from the Recluse, and the last from Sophia’s source, whoever it was. I pulled out the jars and nudged my backpack towards Sophia and Newter.

“There’s a head in there,” I said. “Cut some hair so you can track her.”

“I’m not touching a head,” said Newter, his expression twisted in disgust.

Sophia muttered something and moved forward. Her fox jumped off her shoulder and watched her as she worked, its tails flicking lazily. It barked a few times and Sophia responded in low words. Her familiar, and if it was anything like Silas, then it would be able to speak and was just choosing not to. I couldn’t help but wonder what sort of Other would want to partner itself with her.

“You’ll first need to wash your hands up to your elbow,” said Elwin. “Through that niche you’ll get to a stream. You’ll find a rock, small and rough. Use it to scrub your hands and arms well, so much that they ache, then come back. The less impurities that come into the mask, the better the blood will settle.”

I got to work, first washing my hands before I returned and worked with the mask. Elwin had drawn a circle on the ground, unadorned with any intricacies, and within were the jars of blood and a bowl. I took the deer’s skull and put it in the bowl, then started to pour blood over them. I started with the Alabaster blood first, making sure to leave enough that we’d be able to make a circle, then the blood of the Recluse, and ending with the blood Sophia had given me.

After the process, the mask glowed with light, but, unbound, the essence within was already starting to leak out in curls of wispy light.

I put the mask on, and even without something to tie it in place, it clicked comfortably over my face and glasses, moulded onto my face.

My Sight shifted in little ways, as the darkness between places lifted and I saw more spaces between trees, narrow places that were large enough that I could slip through if I were running.

 _This is going to work. It_ has _to work._

_***_

When my inner eye was open the world presented itself starkly: areas with light were brighter and they were usually the ones with attention devoted to them, which meant they glowed with spiritual activity, while areas bathed in darkness were darker still and hard to perceive. Webs moved through the entire network, as thin as hairs and yet visible when I paid attention, lines which could either be loose, thin and dim, fluttering to ghostly wind, or taut, thick and bright.

I’d added new essences and each added their elements to the Sight: the wolf blood had pulled away some of the darkness to make it easier to see, while adding swirls of light that, when I focused, had impressions I couldn’t quite make out; on the ground there were imprints of footsteps, as well as darker puddles where blood might have fallen. Meanwhile, the Alabaster’s blood revealed paths that had been hidden, both mundane and magical, as well as an instinct of whether a path could see me into danger or if it was safe.

I wasn’t used to the variations of Sight, so my work was to pick and choose which was the best for the situation; I used my Sight to keep track of the webs around us, the wolf’s to track the Alabaster and the Alabaster’s vision to figure out the ways to get there.

Fifteen minutes we ran. I was in the lead, covered from head to toe in blood, dressed in a goatskin cloak that was wrapped in darkness. Sophia and her fox were to my left, the former also wrapped in darkness while the latter had taken on more of its shadowy qualities to make it harder to see; her cape fluttered softly as she moved, first in quick sprints before leaping and gliding forward. Newter was to my right, running on all fours, with his tail erect, his skin having darkened so he could blend into the night.

Our group was pure mobility, cutting through backyards as we went into a neighbourhood I knew was filled with Nazis and Nazi sympathisers.

 _You’re not making this easy for us are you?_ I thought as my eyes roved for anything that might be a threat.

I was worried that she’d gone to the Nazis for help, but I _hoped_ the fact that she was competing for the Alabaster of Brockton Bay meant she wouldn’t. But just because she couldn’t ask them directly for help didn’t mean she couldn’t get us to be in the way of an attack from them.

Something hit me as I ran through the Nazi neighbourhood, as we passed house after house with a messy lawn, cars without tires covered by tarps, windows that had been broken and in need of repair — there wasn’t much of a difference between houses here and some of those in the Lower Bay, because for all the Nazis were about putting white people above those of colour, it was about putting _specific_ white people above other people, and more often than not those people didn’t live in these neighbourhoods. They lived in the Towers, or on the Hill or in the Heights.

_Nazi bullshit is just dumb._

We hadn’t run across many people through the night, which meant I noticed as something shifted. It was a girl in a white dress with a deer’s head. She was on the short side, probably eight or nine, and she looked terrified as she pulled at the fence and squeezed through it.

I pushed faster and the others followed. I jumped, landed on the fence and pushed off. Sophia, her fox and Newter could all jump further than me, and they bounded over easily. We landed together and took off, chasing the girl as she crossed the yard to a fence on the other side. There was a loose slat that she pushed aside to move through; it closed with a sharp thwack and the entire fence jostled. 

Lights came on and in the light appeared the spirit of a man bearing a shotgun.

 _“_ Fuck _,”_ said Sophia.

The spirit was big and burly, brown hair slicked back and with a bushy moustache, it wore faded jeans and a stained wife beater. He pointed the shotgun, not at me or Newter, but at Sophia.

The spirit cocked his shotgun.

Sophia’s fox screamed.

The man whipped around and his shotgun went off. He missed the fox which had already darted into a patch darkness, disappearing entirely.

Sophia lunged forward, a knife in her hand but as she cut she passed _through_ the man. The man turned and took aim; Sophia jumped up, the wind fluttering to buoy her up. The shot missed again and shattered a screen door. She grabbed a part of a roof and pushed off, spinning through the air to land behind Newter and me.

Webs from the house resolved while those from the neighbours were still thin.

I grabbed a handful of salt from my backpack and threw. It hit and the man disappeared.

“People are coming,” said Newter. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”

I grunted and took off, feeling as the others followed. I started to jump — _“Diagram!”_ Amber screamed — and I stopped with a stumble. A diagram on the fence flared; it was large and wound around the property, but only one section had activated.

The fence detonated.

The light was bright, the sound _loud_ and with it came a burst of wind that took me off my feet and sent me crashing into the ground.

“Hey, Taylor,” said Newter. “How are you doing?”

He was a dark form crouched over me, not helping me up.

There were still beads of light in my eyes, there was ringing in my ears, and around my jaw my face ached. Between the cloak and the mask I was largely protected, but the mask didn’t cover me completely and some of the wood from the fence had hit and embedded itself in my skin.

I was relatively okay, but I was _frustrated_ because the Alabaster would be getting away.

A snarl cut through my throat.

“Hebert,” Sophia said. “Get it the fuck together.”

_Taylor Hebert._

The reminder pulled me back.

 _“Gun!”_ said Amber. The others reacted but it was too late. The gun went off. I expected pain but there was none. Newter, though, was taken off his feet and sent tumbling on the ground. He didn’t get up.

“Fuck!” said Sophia

“Fuck’s right,” said a voice, familiar. Enough of my sight was back that I saw her, Tammi the Nazi, in pyjamas and holding a shotgun. “You’re trespassing.”

“So you’re just going to kill us?” Sophia said.

“Why not?” said Tammi. “You’re on my lawn. You’re wearing costumes a lot of people will think are freaky. I’ll be able to—”

Sophia’s fox screamed. Tammi whirled around and shot. She missed.

Newter surged up and spat, catching Tammi’s arm. She fell like a puppet whose strings had been severed.

“Fuck,” Newter muttered. “Thought after a while I’d get used to tha pain.”

“How didn’t that spray kill you?” said Sophia. “How didn’t it kill _us?”_

“Bulletproof vest that makes sure the bullets hit the protected parts,” he said, his voice tight. “You guys were close and they came to me. Still fucking _hurts_.”

The ghost reappeared, bearing his shotgun. He levelled it at Tammi.

“No,” I snarled. He stopped. I rose. “Don’t kill her or we bind you. Leave. Don’t hurt anyone for a week or we bind you.”

I couldn’t waste time on it. I _really_ hoped it would agree.

The ghost nodded and disappeared.

“It’s what she deserves,” said Sophia. “If you killed her at least the echo that I could make would be able to help the city. As it is…”

“Don’t kill people,” I said.

“Some people deserve to be killed,” Sophia returned. 

“Like you?” I said. “Like Emma? Like Madison? You made my life _hell.”_ I stepped towards her, growls cutting into my words. She didn’t flinch or shift though I spotted her fox as it circled around, prepared to scream. “You pushed me in a locker filled with filth as a _prank._ You’re fucked up, Sophia. You and the rest of them. Do _you_ deserve to be killed?”

“I’m not a Nazi,” she said. “Those two things aren’t the same.”

“Taylor!” said Newter. The words pulled me back. “The wolf blood is getting to you. Pull yourself together.”

“I’m Taylor Hebert,” I muttered. “Daughter of Danny and Annette Hebert. Practitioner.” The words pulled me back. “I’m in charge. Don’t kill her. Let’s go.”

The webs were getting brighter and thicker, people gathering the courage to look outside and deal with whatever was happening. There were other webs which pointed further away, maybe the police or the rest of the Nazis.

We cut through the blown-up fence. I used the blood in the mask to seek out the direction the Alabaster had gone. People were awake because of the gunshots and we had to move past webs so we weren’t noticed. It meant our path took us deeper into the South End, steadily going towards Richmond Heights.

My attention went to Sophia and her fox, which raced ahead, moving a lot like Sophia, silent as a breeze and sometimes carried by the wind as it jumped. I’d read a little about Familiars from _Essentials_ and the thought that an Other might have agreed to partner itself with Sophia was galling. Why had I thought it was a good idea to have her here? And why did I want to figure her out? Why did I want to know how she ticked?

Maybe because a part of me blamed her for how Emma had changed. After all, I’d lost my best friend when Sophia had come into the picture.

A growl left me, irritated by the chase, by Sophia and by everything else.

My wolf senses told me we were close to the Alabaster, but as much as we ran, we were always _close,_ but never catching up.

_Irritating._

And after a while _boring._

“I wish to travel a path that’ll titillate the mind!” I barked.

“Wait, what?” said Newter.

My Alabaster senses meant I saw as a gate appeared. I turned and ran towards it. Sophia and her fox followed, but I saw as Newter’s web wavered. It resolved and I heard footsteps.

I pushed through the gate and walked out onto the Garden Route.

The Path was different from Brockton Bay, with a bloody moon hanging large and full overhead, bathing everything in red light. The ground was covered in mist and it seemed to reflect the light, making its effect more pervasive. The houses on either side of the street reflected different styles from all over the world and styles from different time periods. One looked like a monolith, an apartment building with small windows.

Behind the first row of houses were other buildings, most of them apartments, some castles in need of deep repair, and a single large, black tower that twisted itself to reach red-tinted clouds above. Something big shifted at the back of one of the taller buildings, hidden mostly by mist, but I caught slivers of fur and long, clawed arms, all bathed in red.

“Paths take us where we need to go,” I said, my words short. “This might take us closer to the Alabaster.”

“You could have at least warned us,” said Newter.

“I just had the idea.”

“Well _fuck,_ we could have talked about it,” he said. “You never know how good Mel’s overplanning is until you have to work with amateurs that wing shit and _fight_ between themselves. Fucking hell, do you even know the nuances to this Path? Mel said it was your third time. What if the Others are more aggressive? What if there is some trick or trap? God _dammit.”_

“You gonna whine all night?” Sophia said, but I heard the tremor in her voice. I remembered what Mr Calvert had said about her, that she didn’t like to show fear and wrapped herself in a blanket of false strength.

Most of the houses were dark, but there were some alight and there were Others on the yards. A family was out, burned to the point that bone and muscle showed, but their clothes were clean and coloured in pastel colours; there were five of them — mother, father, sister, brother and a dog — and they stood in front of a grill, a dismembered arm over the flame.

It smelled _delicious._

“Of course I’m gonna whine if you’re going to get me killed,” Newter continued. “Fucking hell. Fucking hell. Fucking _hell.”_

“Keep walking,” I said. “Maybe we’ll see Blesk.”

“And we can’t really do anything to get him out. We didn’t prepare for this. _Maybe_ I could take Falling Oaks, but that would get you guys pulled in too, maybe. A part of me _really_ wants to do it so you know how fucked up some Paths can get, but that’s too awful. Next time you get a brilliant idea, maybe _warn_ us?”

I didn’t answer, too annoyed by his yammering.

We walked through the red-tinted mist, passing houses and buildings, each of which held an interesting Other. The mist moved like the sea, waves that rushed forward and got so tall that it was at my chest before receding once more. Buildings in the distance shook, shifted and groaned as something _large_ passed on the other side. I caught more slivers of it and it made me bristle because each time a facet of it was revealed it felt like I wasn’t looking at the same thing: a dog’s snout that changed into that of a fox or a hyena, eyes that glowed yellow, red or green before I realised that there were over two dozen eyes in different positions; it had fur that was black or red or spotted or striped; it was top heavy in moments, with big, muscular arms, and in others it was a quadruped.

When the mist disappeared at times, it was all those things at once. It was as hairy as a bear, spotted like a leopard or a cheetah, it was hefty and sometimes slim, never settling into one form.

 _“There’s someone up ahead,”_ said Amber. It seemed insane that she wouldn’t see _that_ as a danger, and would instead focus on a man. Unless that was just for me, a trick of this place that meant the mist parted when I was looking. Something to keep _my_ interest.

As hard as it was, I chose to focus on the path.

The man wasn’t too tall and he had a narrow build; his skin was yellow and his hair a silver blond.

“Blesk,” I said.

“You know me?” said Blesk. “I don’t think I remember you.”

“We met,” I said. “We talked.”

“Ah, that was you?” he said. “It feels like I blinked and you changed. Parts of a goat, parts of a deer and parts of a wolf, all together. I remember that you didn’t want to help me.”

I jabbed a finger at Newter.

“Hey, man,” he said. “I’m Newter.”

“You’re like me,” he said. “Like the others back in that place.”

“I am,” said Newter. “Taylor said you escaped, from the other place, and you wanted help?”

“I did,” he said. “But things have changed. I am out of my place and I’m supposed to attack you for a chance at freedom. I don’t have a lot of choice. I feel the push.”

“Yeah, that’s how Paths are,” said Newter. “People have their roles. Is this for your freedom?”

“I think so,” said Blesk.

“Do you have to attack a person, or can it be an Other?”

“I’m supposed to put whoever I can in my place,” said Blesk. “Then I’ll be able to complete their walk out of this place.”

Newter started to change colour, bits of a diagram starting to unravel through his skin. The diagram completed and he glowed as a round form pushed out from his chest, scaly and furry and fleshy in places. The moment it hit the ground it started to secrete foul mud from its skin; in seconds it was completely covered, clumps flowing so fast that they pushed back the mist around the Other.

“You might want to get to that,” said Newter.

Blesk stepped back into the mist.

I whipped around as Blesk appeared to Newter’s left, a hand out to grab the round Other. A pig squeal emanated from beneath the muck; short arms swiping at Blesk’s face only to miss as he leaned back. They both stepped into a patch of mist, and further squeals alerted us to their appearance in front of a house. Blesk’s arm and chest was covered in the mud, and the Other was in his grip, wriggling to free itself.

Blesk _heaved,_ throwing the Other over the fence. He stepped back into a patch of mist to appear again ahead of us.

“Done,” he said. “We should go. I feel like something else will try and take _my_ place. Something much bigger.”

At that a building groaned. I looked in its direction and saw eyes, all different shapes and sizes, all looking towards us. The mist shifted and I saw a mouth that stretched to show wide, razor sharp teeth that glowed bright and white. A high-pitched laughter started, cacophonous, hitting buildings to surround us, and in the distance, the monster prowled.

“We have to run,” I said, because it seemed like I was the only one who noticed. Newter was too focused on Blesk, and Sophia looking at a book she’d picked up in the mist.

_“Now!”_

With no further questions, we all moved.

*** 

The Garden Route reached its end and we ran out of the red tinted mist in a sidewalk on Brockton Bay. On either side of us were tall buildings, a few of them made entirely of glass while some were old and thus had more ornamentation.

Blesk stumbled to a stop and smiled. He took a deep breath and seemed to savour it, one arm reaching to catch the light from a streetlight.

“I haven’t really breathed in a long time,” he said, his voice shaky.

I ignored him, my focus on our surroundings. We were downtown near Lord Street and I could hear the sound of cars a few streets over. We weren’t in a busy street, but there were a few webs in the air, most of them to our right, where I could hear a deep thrum of music.

“We’re close to one of Kenta’s strip clubs,” said Newter. “I think that’s where the music’s coming from.”

I tapped into the power within my mask to get a sense of the Alabaster’s location. It could be dangerous, but I moved along the connection to see her on the other end. She was in a tunnel, roughly circular, muddy with bits of clothes, broken bottles and a heap of other junk peeking out in places; she crawled through the muck with ease, dodging most of the pointy objects in her path. Her head turned in my direction and her eyes widened; she jumped in surprise, the form of a deer almost spilling out of her skin, then blindly grabbed a mound of dirt with shards of glass.

I pulled back before she could throw it.

“She’s in a tunnel with a lot of junk,” I said.

“Probably a Warren,” said Newter. “There shouldn’t be any this close to civilisation. Are we in the right place?”

“We have to be,” I said. “Maybe one appeared near Kenta’s place? She could be leading us there so he attacks us like that ghost—”

“Echo,” Sophia interrupted. “I don’t think it was a person who died, just an impression of their hate. There was racism there. It’s why it shot at me first even though I wasn’t anywhere near the front.”

“It could be like that,” I said. “Melanie said it would put us in the way of danger. It already did that with the echo, now this. We have to cut it off. Get it before it gets to us.”

“Blesk?” said Newter. The man had his arms spread, his hands opening and closing. “Are you up for more running? Or do you want to be free? If you want that, you can have it. Just because we got you out of the Path, doesn’t mean you’re indebted to us like that.”

“It does if he’s an Other,” Sophia muttered. “There are rules. Karmic rules.”

“I’d really love to do a walkabout,” said Blesk. “Reality feels different, the air feels different, with… _more._ I feel anchored in a way and _not_ in others. There are tugs in little ways, like the tug I felt before I had to attack you.”

“Do you want to listen to that?” Newter asked. “The tugs?”

“We have to move,” I said before Blesk could answer. I looked at the web again and it had moved from the South End into the downtown area. It was a few blocks away but it was moving _fast_ towards us.

“We don’t exactly know where she’s going, unless that mask lets you see the future,” said Newter. I shook my head. “You looked and she saw you, she could know we’re here and change direction.”

_Which means a wasted trip into the Garden Route._

I bristled and had to stop myself from growling. I had to think of another plan, another way to chase her, or probably find our way into a Goblin Warren, which wasn’t something I wanted to do. Warrens could mean more goblins and I didn’t think we could go through more fights and still last the night.

“We need a plan,” said Sophia. “One that _isn’t_ just running and chasing the Alabaster. It’s better at running away. We’ll get tired. I don’t know if it will.”

“And your wolf face is starting to fade,” said Newter.

I huffed out a breath and started to pace.

A pair of lights flashed in the distance, a car, and from it a wandering thread. I remembered how I looked: barefoot, wearing a darkness-wreathed coat and a deer’s skull for a mask, with face and feet covered in blood.

I stepped back into the darkness and the car passed by without noticing us.

“We need to close off her path,” I said. “Victoria’s help must be working if she’s still in the city. There has to be a reason she changed from going to the Heights to coming downtown. We just have to close the circle more.”

 _“How?”_ Sophia asked. “That’s the problem. How do we catch her?”

I growled, frustrated at _her,_ at the Alabaster and at everything.

_I’m Taylor Hebert. Daughter of Annette and Danny Hebert._

A breath, long and deep, and I pushed down the wolf’s influence, not completely, but enough that it wasn’t as in control. I frowned and gave it thought, considering each of the pieces we had.

But first— “Blesk,” I said. “Will you help us or will you go on your walkabout?”

“You freed me from that place,” he said. “By my understanding of the world of magic, I owe you.”

I nodded. “Are you Awakened or an Other?” I asked. “I’m sorry if it’s insensitive, but I sort of want to know your powers.”

“I don’t know enough,” he said. “But I’m very good at finding ways to get to places.”

“Do you have other magic, are you a Practitioner?” I asked.

Blesk shrugged.

“He should be an Other if he spent a lot of time in the Paths,” said Newter. “People like us…we’re like special cases of Aware, we’re tied to magic but a lot more than they are. Like I always had the ability to secrete toxins and stuff, but I couldn’t _do_ magic until I Awakened. Other people like me, people who spent too much time in Other Places, they drew in that magic and became Other.”

“Okay,” I said. It was dehumanising, but I started to think of each of them as members of my pack. They weren’t really; I didn’t know their personalities and the one I knew, Sophia, was more of a lone wolf, but that helped to frame things.

All of us had mobility, but some of us were faster than others. Often it was Newter, and he spent a lot of the time slowing down because of the rest of us. Sophia was a runner and had a lot of stamina, above that her fox had a way of drawing connections temporarily. Blesk, he could teleport but I didn’t know how long that stretched.

Even so, something of a plan was starting to form.

I shrugged off my backpack and pulled out the Alabaster’s head.

“That’s _so_ gross,” Newter muttered.

I ignored him and reached for the jars which still had blood, then the scrubby sponges. I dipped the sponges in blood and handed them out. Next was the umbilical cord.

“We’re splitting up,” I said. Juices flowed out of the umbilical cord as I squeezed. It would be my power base, but not yet, not when it would be able to look back and listen in on the place. “I’m hoping to increase our connection so she’ll focus on me. The rest of you, hopefully, can look at her webs without her being able to look back. Sophia and Newter are faster than me, so you’ll be able to get around more. Blesk…”

“We have a problem,” he said. “I don’t know what webs are. My Practitioner friend was very careful and he didn’t teach me much.”

“They’re connections,” said Newter. “Ties that bind. You can’t see them? I mean, you could see Taylor’s spirit overlay.”

Blesk shook his head. “I’m good at seeing and making doors but not that particular sight,” he said. “My friend told me that my blood has allowed him to do the same. Though it leaves me weaker. My hair can do something similar, make clearer already existing doors.”

“It might be better if you bowed out of this,” he said. “Or if you can keep up, stay in the shadows and come out when you think you can do something?”

“I might be able to keep up,” he said. “If I’m not able, I’ll stop.”

“Give your sponges to whoever’s close when you do,” I said.

Blesk nodded.

“If you don’t go too far, I’ll find you,” said Newter.

“Okay,” said Blesk.

“Then you’ll use the blood,” I said. “Draw lines in her path and keep her from passing. We’ll gradually close her in. Is that enough of a plan?”

“Good enough,” Sophia muttered.

“Then go,” I said.

The others took off.

With the umbilical cord’s juices I drew a line parallel to the web between me and the Alabaster. The web grew thick and bright. I turned my metaphorical head and I saw the Alabaster, turning into a narrower tunnel; I blinked, tapping into the connection between us, and through her eyes I saw that there was danger in her way, but as she moved a little faster, the danger eased.

She was panicked and that panic moved through our connection and threatened to overwhelm me. I pulled on the wolf’s power. The wolf knew little fear and that helped to even me out.

The two of us were connected. Just as I got some of her emotions, as I was able to use her eyes, she could do the same with me, feel what I felt.

 _Hopefully this works,_ I thought as I did my best to turn my mind away from the rest of the plan.

With another breath, I took off after her.


	24. Chapter 24

The more time I spent connected to the Alabaster, the easier it was to pull and push at her essence, drawing on her to fuel me. She was a spirit and didn’t get tired in the traditional sense, and I pulled on that stamina as fatigue started to overwhelm the magic of my cloak.

A tall fence blocked the way through an alley that would have taken me closer to the Alabaster. One side had a pile of trash, boxes and plastic bags all piled precariously on top of one another, and I leapt up onto it. My footing was firm, and I used that to jump up higher, stepping on the wall and running across it before I leapt down, bare feet slapping against the ground, and continued on.

The Alabaster didn’t get tired in the traditional sense but she was _fatigued_. I felt it through our connection, how drained she was, how scared she was of little things, and how pressed she felt whenever she noticed my prying eyes. I made sure to look at her unabashedly to increase that fear.

_I feel like the only reason this is working is because of you, Chompers. You unknowingly played yourself._

The Bogeyman had explained it to me when I’d been questioning him. He’d gotten the Alabaster through betrayal, having swallowed a baby whole and been imbued by its innocence. The Alabaster had invited him into its domain and he’d succeeded in getting its head and putting in its place the head of a woman who hadn’t been raised for confrontation. That must have served Chompers well because the Alabaster hadn’t been able to fight against him, but now it meant that the Alabaster didn’t have it in her to use the connection between us to hurt me.

All she felt she could do was run, and I was getting closer.

I reached a road with traffic and I tapped into the Alabaster’s Sight — much clearer now that I was connected to her by the umbilical cord — to see the path to safety. I knew when to slow or speed up as I cut through the road.

 _“Car,”_ said Amber only to be ignored.

Headlights fell upon me and I didn’t slow or panic. The car squealed and stopped; a web flared only to dim as the driver was forced to pay attention to the car that hit him in the rear. I reached the other side of the street without anyone seeing me and ran into a narrow alley.

A jolt of panic hit me like a truck. I stumbled, my heart beating a mile a minute. I swallowed and looked around, using my Sight to see if something had caused the attack but there was nothing.

_The Alabaster._

I looked through her eyes to see as she dodged a gob of spit, her dress tearing as she slid on the ground to move into the space between a dumpster and a wall, her expression shifting between abject fear and an almost familiar resolution. She found a hole that led into the basement of a store and scrambled in, the edges of the building scraping skin as she pushed through.

Newter had almost caught her.

_It’s working._

I pushed faster, using my web to her to narrow down her position. She scrambled out at the back of the building and bolted, a row of buildings between her and me. There was another jolt of panic as a door appeared from a wall and Blesk stepped out, a bloody sponge in hand; he squeezed and cast his hand out, droplets of blood spraying out. The Alabaster turned into a street and in the process ran towards me.

A grin spread as I turned into the one-way street she was in. I saw her, a girl with a deer’s head and long white hair, dressed in a dirty white dress. She saw me too and her gaze moved to a pile of trash I knew from her senses hid a hole that led into the sewers.

_No._

We both ran for it.

A scream reverberated and both the Alabaster and I turned in the direction of the sound. It was a shadowy, two-tailed fox, and it stared down at us from the top of a building. We both tripped and fell. I rolled and pushed myself to my feet. The Alabaster did the same but when she found her feet she was no longer a girl, but a white deer.

_Yes._

For a moment she couldn’t move and she only stared at me.

I grinned, bearing my teeth at her.

Light flashed on the other end of the street, red and blue, before its siren shrieked. Awkwardly it started to turn into the street we were in.

_Fuck._

_I can’t let her escape._

“Sophia, distract them!”

The Alabaster darted towards the trash and I did the same. It was closer but it had trouble running on the road. It lunged more than it should and it always landed awkwardly.

_Light._

I reached for my side and pulled out my flashlight. It clicked on and light flooded through the street, hitting the Alabaster. She must have used our connection because even though the light wasn’t pointed in my direction it hit me full force. I quickly flicked it off but it was already too late. I couldn’t see, and from the sound of clopping feet, _it_ could.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

In the distance I heard as glass cracked, then the sound of squealing tires quickly followed by the scream of Sophia’s fox before gunshots filled the air.

I dropped low, still trying to blink away my blindness.

I heard something and tensed.

“It’s me,” said Newter, voice soft and gentle. “Don’t move too much or I might knock you out.” 

I nodded. Carefully, Newter helped me to my feet and led me into safety. The sound of gunshots still filled the air before it suddenly stopped and I heard shouted words, a scramble, and then the police car drove off.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Sophia sent Others after them,” said Newter. “I really hope she knows what she’s doing or she’ll get the karmic backlash.”

“Sophia’s smart,” I said. I continued to blink and I was starting to see a little, though there were still stars in my eyes. I tapped into the Alabaster’s senses and found she hadn’t gone that far away. It was surprising to see how close she was, then I saw the reason why — Blesk was throwing blood at her to keep her from running off. “Blesk’s _really_ coming in handy.”

“Teleporters are a bitch to deal with, but they’re awesome when they’re on your side,” he said.

“Sewers are closed and confined,” I said. “It might be easier to catch her.”

“Sewers are the underbelly of the city,” said Newter. “Some Others use them to hide or get through the city if they can’t be noticed. Some goblins can stand them, but there’s too many pipes for most to go through.”

“What about Warrens?” I asked.

“There shouldn’t be a lot, but there might be,” he said.

I heard the ruffle of a cloak as Sophia landed.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Do you care?” she said.

She had to be with that answer. I blinked away the last of the stars, then reached for the Alabaster, and felt the panic. It wasn’t directed at Blesk, but at a stout man wearing a white vest and shorts. He was pink faced, and every piece of skin visible was hairy; he carried a chain tightly around one hand, and at the end of that chain was the biggest crocodile I’d ever seen.

The man bent low, picked up the crocodile, and _heaved_ it at the Alabaster. Blesk found that moment to appear, attention on his target. He tried to grab her and missed as she turned into a tunnel. The crocodile hit him, its mouth closing around his arm. They both fell and Blesk disappeared into the water.

“Blesk is hurt,” I said, my voice catching in my throat.

“What?” said Newter. He flicked his tail and a web from him to Blesk resolved. “I have to—”

“Go,” I said. His skin quickly changed colour so a diagram appeared and out fell a vial of orange liquid.

“My sweat,” he said, handing it over, before he darted away.

“Just the two of us,” said Sophia.

I swallowed and nodded.

“Third time,” she said. “It has to be the charm.”

“Let’s make so.”

***

_Back where it began._

The safe path suddenly constricted. Only a few things could have caused that, so I shrugged off my cloak in case it was the Bell Woman.

All at once fatigue overcame me. I’d been running barefoot for hours and the strain hit me like a truck. My legs ached to the point where each step threatened to be my last, a fiery pain exploded each time I took a step, my lungs burned with every breath and my chest felt tight, and I was so drenched with sweat that I felt slimy.

With the cloak on I’d run beside Sophia without trouble, but now she and her fox started to outstrip me.

_She’s close. We can’t lose her again. She’s close. We can’t lose her again._

It was my mantra as we turned into an alley, the buildings on either side sucking up what little light hit this section of the Docks.

My wolf senses had faded, which meant I had no other option but to reach for the Alabaster’s essence so I could keep up. I saw her, still in her deer form, and I felt her fatigue, frustration and desperation, as though the noose was already around her neck; her eyes darted to and fro, looking for safe paths, but the routes she could take were gradually getting smaller, a circle I couldn’t directly perceive closing around her.

 _We’ve almost got her. We’ve almost got her._

_“Danger!”_ said Amber as a web appeared and a window to our right exploded. A form had flung itself out, a bearded man dressed in a bright yellow raincoat and hat, one hand a dull hook; it wasn’t raining but the man was drenched, the water running off him and pooling on the ground.

“I remember,” the man whispered, his words so deep. He took a step forward, eliciting a squelching sound from his galoshes. “I remember!”

“Eyes!” I said. Sophia’s fox darted into a patch of darkness as I levelled my flashlight. I flicked it on and the man stumbled back, one arm coming up to shield his eyes. The flashlight flicked off and I stowed it in my belt to pull free my stick.

Sophia lunged, pieces of paper in her hands. The man must have heard because his hook hand came up in a swipe. Sophia’s fox screamed and the man’s head whipped in its direction, his body twisting to accommodate; he started to fall, braced, and toppled as Sophia landed on him. She quickly pushed off, leaving behind a few pieces of paper stuck on him. A network of webs appeared around the man, all of them pointed towards metal objects.

Sophia snapped her fingers and the lines grew shorter; objects big and small flew towards him, many hitting him in the face.

I spun my stick and struck the man across the face as I passed. He hit the ground hard and didn’t get up.

 _Probably a Bogeyman._

I still didn’t like Sophia, but thank the gods and the spirits she was here because I wouldn’t have been able to handle a fight. My stomach was churning, its contents sometimes sloshing up my throat and threatening to spill out.

“Your feet are bleeding,” she said as I caught up to her.

I tried to swallow but there wasn’t enough saliva in my mouth. I wanted nothing more than to stop, to catch my breath, to eat some of the sandwiches still in my backpack or a sip of orange juice, but I couldn’t, not when I was so close.

We got out of the alley, and ran down a street, then cut through a warehouse to pass through the last line of buildings before we came upon the Boat Graveyard.

I saw her racing along, her white coat juxtaposed against the decrepit roads and buildings of the Docks. She had a way of moving that ensured she always found patches of grass and weeds to run through, which meant she moved mainly in leaps.

“Leaving you,” said Sophia and I nodded.

She took off and jumped. I watched with the Sight as a current of wind spirits pushed her further up and away, her cape fluttering violently. I thought for a second that she might fly too far up, that she might be pulled into the ocean, but the web between her and her Familiar wrenched her back to the ground.

Sophia landed ahead of the Alabaster and raced towards the deer, her bloody sponge in hand. The Alabaster, filled with panic, changed direction, pointed towards a door that would break to the slightest force.

_No. No. No. I can’t lose her._

Just as Victoria had done before, I reached for the web between me and her.

“Stay!” I said as I _pulled._

All the air rushed out of my lungs and my legs gave out mid-step. I fell, hitting the ground chest first, and such was my momentum that skin ripped as I slid forward; my arms had tried to come up, and they were the only reason I didn’t hit my head on the ground, but head slamming against arm wasn’t much better.

All of me ached, but I couldn’t let the pain overwhelm me.

The Alabaster. I had to find her.

I looked in her direction with the Sight and saw she’d fallen and hurt herself too, with blood marring her white coat. A splotch of red, I noticed, which was starting to disappear, coinciding with pain that started at my side. She was using the connection from me to her to attack me, giving me parts of her I wouldn’t have taken. I tried to push against the current and it didn’t work.

_Everything has a price. I took and took from her. Now she’s taking from me. My health and vitality._

The Alabaster found her feet.

I tried to do the same and found I couldn’t move much, too much pain in too many places. 

The Alabaster had to change direction and dart away as Sophia got too close to her escape route. She ran towards me, keeping her distance from the buildings she might scramble through because things were safer close to me. Sophia’s fox formed out of the darkness and lunged towards the Alabaster; the fox almost missed, but the same magic Sophia used to propel herself with wind spirits served the fox. It was thrust forward and it landed on the Alabaster’s back. Its teeth sunk into her neck.

By our connection I felt the pain.

The Alabaster leapt, doing its best to buck the fox off, but to no avail; its tiny claws had gotten into the Alabaster and they _stuck._

_Gotta move. Gotta finish this._

I shifted until I was on my butt, then reached into my pockets for Newter’s vial. Still intact, thankfully. I pulled it out.

“Amber,” I said. “Amber, come out.”

My earring jostled and Amber appeared, their eyes wide as they looked at me.

“You’re hurt,” they said.

I swallowed; there was blood in my mouth and it made it easier. “Yeah,” I said. “The Alabaster’s not a fighter, do you see that?”

“Yes,” said Amber.

“Then…then you’re not in any real danger from her,” I said. “If you get close. She won’t hurt you.” Amber nodded. I shifted and brought up my hand. “Then get this close to her. Wait…wait till I’ve cut the connection between us and throw some of the liquid on her, okay?”

Amber bit their lip. They looked from me to the Alabaster.

“Others like me make deals,” said Amber.

_What?_

“Before they do something,” they continued. “They strike deals.”

“What do you want?”

“A month,” they said. “I want to stay in the house for a month. I don’t want to go outside. I want to keep checking the house for dangerous things, but I don’t want to go on missions with you. I’m sorry, but they’re too scary. Every time we go on a mission I feel _so_ drained.”

I’d known they didn’t like going out and I felt horrible as I thought about all the times I’d taken them out nonetheless. I thought about tonight and how I’d had the Abusive Man chase them.

_I brought you into this world. Made you a spirit of fear and alertness. If this is what you need to function. Then I have to give it to you._

“Okay,” I said. “That’s the deal. After this is over. We’ll go back home and I won’t ask you to leave for a month. I promise, Amber, I’ll do my best to treat you better.” I swallowed. “I’ve…I’ve been treating you less than a person. I promise that I’ll try and treat you like I would treat any other person.”

Amber nodded and took the vial.

While we were talking Sophia had started to work. She’d summoned a few Others, small things that looked like fist-sized goblins which were on the Alabaster, biting and stabbing at her legs all while the fox kept on her back. Sophia herself was working with the sponges, making lines to keep the Alabaster in place.

_Should have given Amber my sponges._

But it was too late now, she was already too far away.

As painful as it was — with new pain appearing as the Alabaster was stabbed and bit — I pulled off my backpack and reached within. I pulled out the umbilical cord and wrapped it around my hand, squeezed, then used the juices to draw a line perpendicular to the one between me and the Alabaster.

Our connection severed, the two pieces flailing but getting closer with each flail.

I drew a crescent shape between me and the Alabaster. My web dimmed, quickly disappearing.

I nodded.

Amber acted, opening the vial and dashing its contents in the Alabaster’s direction without getting too close to some of the goblin things that had been jostled off. It splashed onto her, hitting some of the goblin things and Sophia’s fox, and all of them fell in a heap.

The pain hadn’t disappeared with connection severed, but at least the Alabaster could no longer run and that was cause for relief.

Sophia rushed towards the Alabaster and picked up her Familiar. Amber said something to her that I couldn’t hear and they rushed over.

“Would you like to go back into the Hallow?” I asked Amber.

“Yes. Thank you,” they said and got in.

“Your spirit told me we might have trouble soon,” she said. “Gotta get this bound and quickly.”

“Belt,” I said. “In my bag.” She bent low and dug around. She pulled out the belt. “Come out and protect us. Go back at my say so.”

Sophia whipped the belt and the Abusive Man stepped out, his expression scrunched as he looked at Sophia.

“Help me up,” I said. “I have to finish this.”

She nodded and did. I used my stick to help me as I shambled towards the Alabaster. Then I dug around for the last of the blood. I used the sponges to draw the circles. It was unassisted, with me crawling around the Alabaster, pain flaring at the smallest movement. I doubted it would look anything like a true circle, and yet, when the first circle was done, it was perfectly round.

 _“Something’s coming,”_ said Amber.

The first Other appeared, a woman dressed in black, her hands clasped together and hidden beneath wide sleeves. She gave off the feel of a nun or a nurse, with her hair hidden behind a bonnet; her long face impassively took us in as she neared.

 _“He’s the one that attacked Victoria,”_ Amber whispered.

“Bogeyman,” I said, the words coming out reedy. “I think she might be the Matron. One of the Others who was supposed to hide the Alabaster’s domain.” I swallowed and took the second scrubby sponge with the blood of the Hermit. “Sophia, I’ll lend you my stick to bash her head in, it should be effective. It should be returned at my say so.”

Sophia took the stick and spun it. She had a knife in one hand and my stick in the other.

“Make sure she doesn’t get hurt,” she said.

It took me a second to realise who she was talking about. The fox. “I’ll try,” I said. “Abusive Man, protect the fox.”

The Abusive Man appeared over the fox.

I started to work on the second circle.

Sophia walked forward, arms spread, ready to attack.

“I’ve never been much of a fighter,” the Bogeyman said, her voice high and airy.

“If you start now, you’re going to get hurt,” said Sophia. “Leave.”

“I can’t do that. I made a deal and it hinges on what’s to follow. I will watch.”

“Let’s make a deal,” said Sophia. “You don’t attack us. If something tries to attack us, you help us stop it.”

“No,” said the Bogeyman. “But I won’t attack if you’re attacked. I won’t defend you, though I’ll defend myself.”

“Say you won’t attack us,” said Sophia.

The Bogeyman paused. I heard as Sophia stepped forward. “I won’t attack you unless it’s to defend myself,” she eventually said.

The Abusive Man continued to serve as sentry, sometimes muttering Sheila under his breath. Sophia came back to stand watch over her fox, still carrying my stick, her attention on the Bogeyman.

 _“Someone’s coming,”_ Amber said as I got close to closing the second circle. It was getting harder and harder to do, with more of my energy gone and my knees starting to ache.

It was a man on a big motorcycle that ran without making a sound. As he got close and some light fell on him, I recognised him. Colin, the leader of the Protectorate and Chris’ mentor. He parked his bike and stretched a little before he walked close.

The Abusive Man stepped towards him, though he looked scared.

_Of course, attack a woman or a child and you’re brave, but someone your size and you’re afraid. Fucker._

“I won’t attack nor try to stop your binding,” said Colin.

“Don’t attack him,” I told the Abusive Man.

“Taylor Hebert and Sophia Hess,” he said. “I was told that Newter was your third.”

“We had to split off from him,” said Sophia.

“Which means that I cleared his path for nothing,” he said. “A waste.”

“You were helping?” Sophia said.

Colin nodded. “The Protectorate’s duty is to protect this city,” he said. “I worked tonight in service of that.”

She snorted. “Right,” she muttered. “But I didn’t see you putting your neck on the line like we did.”

“You have no idea the scale at which we work,” he said. “No idea what it means to, metaphorically, put my neck on the line.”

“I know your ‘scale’ means you work with Nazis,” said Sophia. “That’s enough for me.”

The man let out a sigh. “I can see you’re too emotional and I’m unlikely to get an intelligent conversation.”

“Me being emotionally invested means I have a stake in things,” Sophia muttered. “It means I’ll be the one who gets hurt. That you’re not emotionally invested says a lot.”

Colin turned away from Sophia and turned to me. “I’ve had an Enchantress look at your connections,” he said. “I’ve seen that you don’t trust Calvert. I want to tell you that you’re right not to.”

“Not even ten minutes, Colin, and you’re already trying to subvert me, _”_ said Mr Calvert, his voice reverberating.

I finished the last line of the circle and turned in his direction. The man, dressed in military fatigues with similarly dressed people around him, stepped out of a patch of darkness. All of them were wet, but they got dry as they walked. There were twelve in all, and I recognised two as Travellers, the girl with the mouths and one of the guys.

The Abusive Man looked between me and the coming group.

“Don’t attack them,” I said. I swallowed. “Mr Calvert. How…?”

“Because I’ve completed my task for the night,” he said. “Quite a while ago if we’re being honest. But much though I tried to get to you, I found my path bent and twisted. I couldn’t help but be turned around. I had to divulge a secret I’d hoped would be up my sleeve for a while yet. You’ll want to start working on that third circle.”

I nodded and got started.

“You seem to be implying that I was the one who twisted your path,” said Colin.

“Would that implication be wrong?”

“It would.”

“Then why don’t you say it’s so,” said Mr Calvert. There was humour in his voice of all things. “For all the spirits to hear.”

“I didn’t stall you,” Colin said, irritated.

“Directly or _in_ directly?” said Mr Calvert. “Can you safely say that your Ward with that Path Spirit of hers wasn’t working to please you, to make sure you got where you wanted to go after, perhaps, sharing how much of a boon it would be if this victory was yours?”

Colin stayed quiet.

_What the fuck is this?_

But I was too tired and I wanted the third circle complete before the Alabaster woke up. I didn’t think I had it in me to ask the question, as curious as I felt.

“Calvert’s intentions are selfish,” Colin said to me. “He isn’t the man he’s made himself seem.”

“Oh,” said Mr Calvert, “and—”

“Thomas Silas Calvert,” Colin continued. “A Practitioner who doesn’t come from a family, who hasn’t been awakened all that long in comparison to his age, and yet has amassed so much power. One has to wonder _how._ ”

“You seem to think that being a self-made man speaks against my character.”

“Maybe not,” said Colin, “but Ellisburg paints a picture of you and the acts you’d willing commit.” Mr Calvert didn’t say anything. I turned to look and he had a frown. “The PRT kept very good records, and as is her nature, Alexandria incorporated them into our library when we had access to them. Ellisburg, a Goblin King that decided that he wanted to make a kingdom for himself, taking lives to create custom goblins. Things got so bad that the PRT and Protectorate worked together, witch hunters and witches. It was thought that this would be the start of a union between the two.

“Things didn’t work out so well. The Goblin King was _very_ powerful and the city had started to connect itself to surrounding Warrens and parts of the Abyss. It wasn’t just goblins who walked its streets but Bogeymen as well, most of which served the Goblin King. Calvert was in one of the teams that went to dispatch the threat; him along with a few Practitioner families. He was only one of a few Aware that escaped. There would have been one more but Calvert shot him in the back to secure his own safety.”

I stopped and turned to Mr Calvert. At least he wasn’t smiling.

“So he’s a survivor,” said Sophia.

“That you’ve taken that out of the story is worrying, Sophia Hess,” said Colin. “I see you don’t feel the same, Taylor Hebert.”

_Why are you having this conversation now?_

I continued to draw my circle.

“You’re likely wondering why we’re having this conversation,” said Mr Calvert. “The answer is a simple one. Remember what I told you about dealing with the Alabaster. Make it _yours._ You, by our ties, are mine, and your victories are in part mine. Colin wants you to be on your own so that I don’t further dilute his claim over the city.”

“I think it’s working,” said Colin, a low confidence in his voice. “She doesn’t trust you.”

“If you were truly confident you would have been more direct with your speech.” He looked at me. “Taylor doesn’t trust very easily,” he said. “It’s one of the things I like about her. It’s one of the things that lead to a prize as great as the Alabaster. If it was anyone else, the secret would have been shared before it eventually returned to the Nazis, and we know how that would have turned out.”

“Compliments and flattery,” said Colin. “I wonder if you withheld compliments from her in the past to this very end, so that you might pull her to your side at a simple word.”

_Is that true?_

I tried to think but it was already taking so much effort to focus on the circle.

 _“Please,”_ I said. “Shut up.”

“The PRT were a force that had military teachings,” Colin continued, because fuck him he couldn’t stay quiet and let me finish this. “The person Calvert killed, they would have known each other, been friends if not brothers. Yet Calvert shot him all the same. There would have been camaraderie between him and the Practitioners who stood with him, and yet he stole their texts all the same. Taylor Hebert, can you say he won’t betray you as he did them?”

“He’s…he’s trying to help this city,” I said.

“And what do you think the Protectorate has been doing? Why did we help you tonight without expectation of repayment?”

“That’s…that’s not enough,” I said. I winced as bits of gravel got into my knee. “What you’re doing isn’t enough.”

“What we’re doing has kept this city from falling into war,” he said, a bit frustrated. “Brockton Bay is at a precipice and a good jostle could see it fall down. You’ve likely missed some of it, but the sirens, the attacks that have happened; were it not for Calvert’s claim, they wouldn’t have happened with tonight’s severity and it wouldn’t have given many of the city’s Other population room to attack and kill people, to steal children, for a faerie to traipse through this town and seed itself, with us only noticing after it had already departed.”

I shook my head. “That’s not enough. Keeping…keeping the status quo isn’t enough. There’s a lot that’s happening that you’re ignoring. Mr Calvert will change things. After he gets power. When he doesn’t have to fight the Nazis or you.”

“Can you say with certainty that it will be for the better?” he said.

I swallowed. “No,” I said. “I don’t know Mr Calvert that well. But I know me and I know what I’m working towards. I want the Bay to be better. I don’t want it to be a failing city. I know that that’s what the Spirit of the Docks wants, and that’s what I’m going to get the Alabaster to work towards. It’s what I’m going to try and keep Mr Calvert to, as long as I work with him, as long as I have resources that he wants access to.”

“You could do the same with the Protectorate,” said Colin. “Why him when he is morally dubious?”

Sophia let out a bark of laughter. “One of the bigwigs in the Protectorate is a cop,” she spat. “She works with the Spirit in Blue, works in a system that killed my Dad and got me stuck with my fucked-up stepfather. _Fuck_ morally dubious, because your shit doesn’t smell any better. At least his morally dubious works for us.”

Colin muttered something I couldn’t hear, then he turned and walked away.

Mr Calvert smiled. “Finish up that circle,” he said. “You’ll be given first aid once you’re done. Everyone else, let’s get started on a circle that’ll move things along quickly. It’ll be important the Alabaster sees that help isn’t about to come.”

Calvert’s men nodded and they spread out, carrying small sticks and lines of thread. They started to build an angular circle around us while the girl with the mouths began to vomit small creatures which she ordered to keep a perimeter.

I finished the last line and let myself drop, too tired to move.

***

My feet were bound tight in bandages. They’d been disinfected, dabbed with alcohol, and now they throbbed with pain. I’d tried to put on my shoes but the confines had hurt too much. There had been other dabs of alcohol throughout my body and I ached as a result. I was tired as I sat, breathing deeply, with my cloak spread over me like a blanket to ease some of the pain.

The Alabaster was still asleep in her circle, knocked out by Newter’s sweat.

Sophia sat cross legged next to me, her fox in her lap, a hand running through its shadowy fur and another with a juice box at her mouth; Mr Calvert’s men stood in a perimeter around us, carrying guns, ready for anything that might break through the circle of warped time; and the Travellers stood on their own, whispering between themselves.

Mr Calvert stood beside me, watching the Alabaster.

“What was happening out there?” I asked. “All the sirens?”

“Attacking Nazi key facilities,” Mr Calvert replied. “We started small with Rachel two days ago, then went larger to capitalise on our previous victory. Drugs dens, storehouses, safe houses mundane and magical, as well as some of their bases. Too much magic in one place isn’t good, it opens up the risk of being defeated in one fell swoop, so they spread them out. We attacked a few of them.”

Sophia whistled.

“Unfortunately we haven’t defeated them,” said Mr Calvert. “They have a very large power base. I hope to make a third move.”

“Third time’s supposed to be the charm,” I said.

Mr Calvert nodded. “Hopefully.”

“Are any of the Nazis dead?” Sophia asked.

“Three people aware of our world,” said Mr Calvert. “Justin Fletchley, a man who was very good at making imaginary friends; Stormtiger, a man—”

“We know him,” said Sophia.

Mr Calvert nodded. “And Othala, an alchemist who was good at making potions that granted people certain abilities: healing, invulnerability, the ability to manipulate fire. There were also a myriad of deaths in their unaware numbers. The news will likely speak of a gang war.”

“Their deaths,” I said, “do they help?”

“The future is a tricky thing. The Nazis have a lot of power and that power is protected by time. It’s formed grooves and as we work to break free of that cycle, it’ll fight back.”

“So how are you going to win?”

“By doing something that will have terrible consequences in the short term, but, if played just right, will mean the Bay is freer of Nazi control.”

“Vague,” said Sophia.

“There’s a certain pageantry involved in being a Practitioner. I think what I’ve planned next will be better experienced first-hand than explained beforehand.”

The Alabaster stirred.

“Now stand,” said Mr Calvert. “It’s important that you look the part of a victor.”

I nodded and put on the skull mask, grabbed my stick and used that to push myself up. “Can you put on the cloak?” I said to no one in particular, my breathing coming out in fits. Sophia put it on me and pain that had threatened to knock me out eased.

The Alabaster shakily found her feet, looked around before her eyes found me.

“Take on a form that will allow us to converse,” I ordered.

The Alabaster stood and between blinks took on the form of a girl in a white dress with a deer head, her black eyes wide and glassy.

“Can you speak?” I asked.

“I can,” she said, her voice trembling. She swallowed. “I’m scared.”

“That’s because you’ve been subverted,” I said. “By the Bogeyman Chompers.”

She nodded shakily. “He told me to run.”

“And by your connection to him you were bound to follow his command,” I said. “I’ve bound you, and I think there are no paths open for you to escape.”

She looked over my shoulder. “People are coming,” she said. “Another spirit like me. But they’re coming too slow.”

“That’ll be the Nazis,” said Mr Calvert, his voice soft.

“Should we be afraid?” I asked him.

“Concerned, yes,” said Mr Calvert. “I’ve called the Undersiders and the remaining members of the Travellers, as well as the Alvarez family. They should be in the way of the Nazis. After their battles many of them will be tired. I don’t expect them to win.”

“You’re bound,” I said. “Are you prepared to deal or will you wait for the conclusion of a fight between the Alabaster of Brockton Bay and our allies?”

“He wants me,” she said. “He wants to end me. I’m a threat to him. He’s not really safe.”

“Because you were trying to usurp him?” I asked. “Before Chompers got you?”

“My duty is to restore balance,” she said. “The other one, he’s imbalanced. He’s supposed to be there for everyone but he doesn’t do that.”

“Your head makes you docile,” I said. “This head”—and I pointed to her head—“is yours and has your essence, your _self._ I bid you to consume it.”

Mr Calvert tsked. When I looked at him he didn’t say anything.

“I don’t like meat.”

“By your binding,” I said, “I bid you to consume this head and regain your _self_.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to. It’s a head. It’s slimy and disgusting.”

“Through this night I’ve chased and hunted you, succeeded in capturing you. By rights you’re mine to bind or kill. I bid you, consume this head and regain your self.”

The Alabaster’s lips quivered and tears left her, but she nodded glumly.

Sophia picked up the head and tossed it through the circles. The Alabaster caught it and, still crying, started to eat.

Mr Calvert turned to face the city. “Cody,” he said. “I’ll require your services.” He reached into his pockets and pulled out a clock. “Brooks, chalk, please.”

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“The Nazis arrived much faster than I expected,” he said. “We’ll turn back their time, put them someplace else.”

“I can only do three seconds,” said Cody, “and I can’t do places.”

“I have a strange relationship with time,” said Mr Calvert. “We’ll use Silas and I as anchors, we’ll increase connections to me while turning back time. Such is the way of things that their path will take them to Silas instead of me. Please, if you’d aid me.”

The two started to draw out a complex circle that I wanted to watch, though my attention was on the Alabaster. It took them fifteen minutes before they were done, with Mr Calvert and Cody finding places within the circle. They started to chant and I heard the sound of great gears grinding against each other before the sound ceased.

“I do hope they’re adequately prepared,” said Mr Calvert.

The Alabaster continued to eat and her form distorted. She became a wisp of white light that solidified in some places to make her older. Her deer head started to break into light and when it solidified once more it was the head of a woman with long white hair. On she ate until there were only morsels left. She swallowed the last clumps of hair and her transformation completed: she was a woman, tall and imperious, with long hair, a lacy dress and a shaggy coat, all in white.

She looked down at us with pink eyes.

“Taylor Hebert,” she said, her voice stern and proud, “you’ve freed and bound me in one move.”

I swallowed. There was an intensity to her now that hadn’t been there before. Her looking down at me reminded me of the few times I’d gotten a talking to from Mom.

“You’re a guardian spirit,” I said, more to help me frame things than anything else.

“This is one of my roles,” she said. “I am always there to those in need, as Sophia Hess can attest.” Sophia shifted uncomfortably. “You were wise to leave my sanctuary, it wouldn’t have served you well.”

“You didn’t give me what I wanted,” she said.

“And yet I pointed the way nonetheless,” said the Alabaster. “Did you not see it? When you left my domain your feet took you to places that would offer you answers, they awakened you in more ways than the leavings you received.”

Sophia didn’t say anything.

The Alabaster turned back to me. “You’ve bound me, Taylor,” she said. “Will I continue to be bound or will I be freed?”

“When you were still docile,” I started, “you said you wanted to bring balance, and that the Alabaster of Brockton Bay was imbalanced. Will you still do the same now? Try and balance him?”

“You want my help in unseating him,” she said. “You and your mentor.”

“I do,” I said.

“The help I offer is not as you would wish it to be,” she said. “You are young, and it is the way of the young to think in concrete terms. I would not be able to fight the Alabaster of Brockton Bay, not directly. However, I might be able to work to pull in those he has chosen to disregard; give them a place, give them respite and purpose as he does those whose features are similar to his master’s.”

“Is that the only help you can give?” I asked.

“Not the only help,” she said. “I can nudge as he has nudges. We will be working against each other and as is the way of things, it will enable the actions of Practitioners to have more weight.”

“With fate vying for different ends, their future becomes less certain,” Mr Calvert explained.

“Yes, Thomas Calvert,” she said.

“Is that good?” I asked.

“It’s better than what we were working with,” he said.

“All of this will be for a time,” said the Alabaster. “It is the way of those such as us that we exist a day’s landed travel from each other. The Alabaster of Brockton Bay has a stronger claim to this city, and soon I will have to go elsewhere.”

“I understand,” said Mr Calvert.

“Okay,” I said. I hobbled forward and dashed the circles of blood.

The Alabaster stood straighter, taking a deep breath much like Blesk had done. She smiled.

I stepped back. “What’s going to happen to Chompers?” I asked.

Her smile slipped. “He defiled me,” she said, “took fruits from my garden, disturbed the truly innocent. He has incurred a tide of negative karma for disturbing my sanctuary and there are very few things that could save him. I would warn Melanie Fitts or you from keeping him close.”

I nodded.

“And for you, Taylor Hebert,” she said. “Three gifts as thanks for my freedom.” She reached into her robes and pulled out an apple. “This apple will heal you completely if eaten or, if you were to have an eye to the future, you might plant it and tend to it so you might have its fruits.”

“Can’t I just eat it and plant the seeds?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “One or the other. This is to decide the person you are, Taylor Hebert, one who cares only for their present or one who plans for the future. Choose wisely, for each has its advantages.”

I took the apple.

Next she grabbed a lock of her hair and tugged it off. She gave them to me.

“You set yourself the task of helping your city,” she said. “Tie my hair to a lock of yours and a little of me will be passed onto you. Problems are rife in Brockton Bay and they are in need of someone to settle them, that will be you. It will be hard work, many a times without reward, but you will be able to take over that which the Alabaster of Brockton Bay has disregarded.”

Lastly she pulled out a key made out of bone.

“A key that will take you to my sanctuary when used to open any door. It can only be used once. Use it wisely.”

“Thank you,” I said and winced. I’d tried to be very careful about how I thanked people and Others, but as leaned heavily on my stick, all of that had slipped my mind.

“No,” she said, “thank you, Taylor Hebert.” The words were a relief to hear, particularly when I knew how they could be used. “Sophia, tell Atticus that I am free and he is to find me.”

“Okay,” Sophia said, tone uncharacteristically gentle.

“Then I bid thee well,” the Alabaster said, her words sounding less like a wish and more like an order. She turned and walked towards a warehouse with a boarded-up door, pushed it open, and walked into her domain.

“A good result all-in-all,” said Mr Calvert. “Let’s take you home, Taylor, you look close to death.”

“Yeah,” I said. “First we need to clean up all this blood, and I need to burn this mask. Make sure this blood can’t be used again.”

“Sponges too,” said Sophia. “Newter and that Blesk guy still have some.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to get to that,” I said. “Take care of it for me?”

“Sure,” she said.

I let out a long breath, tension I hadn’t known I had leaving my shoulders. There was still a lot to be done, there was a time crunch where the Alabaster would be vying against the Alabaster of Brockton Bay, time that Mr Calvert would have to act. But that was for the future, and now I could let myself feel good at a job well done.

I’d won round three against Chompers but more importantly the Alabaster had been saved.


	25. Chapter 25

“Oh, wow,” said Victoria. “You’re a lot worse off than when we last saw each other.”

I stood at the door leaning heavily on my stick, cloak draped over my shoulders. Outside, the sky was tinted red by the setting sun, an entire day that I’d missed while trying to get some sleep. My body was in too much pain and shifting while asleep was enough to exacerbate my wounds and force me awake. I hadn’t gotten as much as I would have liked.

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “It was a night.”

She smiled. As always Victoria looked very well put together, one of her arms was in a sling but she seemed to pull it off; but there were signs of bags under her eyes that weren’t usually there, and to the Sight there were markings of a dark, spidery web running through her arm.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

“I should be the one asking you,” she said. “You’re using your fighting stick to walk.”

“Even with the cloak the hurt’s passing through,” I said. “My feet ache. I was running barefoot last night and after the wolf’s power faded my feet weren’t as protected. Come in, I want to sit down. It takes a lot to be standing.”

Victoria walked in and we went to the living room where the television was still on, tuned to the news.

_“…and to add to what feels like an increasingly strange night, it seems we have our very own Florida Man. It’s a story that’s been passing along various forums, reports of a large man who was spotted walking a large alligator—”_

I turned it off after sitting. “If you want something to eat you can dig around the fridge,” I said, extending hospitality. I didn’t have it in me to get her food myself.

“I’m okay,” she said. “So, what happened last night? I heard that you succeeded but not how, and Chris said Colin doesn’t like you now. You and him had a run-in?”

“Yeah,” I said, then went over everything after I’d left the group.

“Sophia and you don’t get along?” Victoria asked. “What’s that about, if…if it isn’t too personal.”

“Those three,” I said. “Or at least Emma and Madison. They bullied me and it was pretty bad. Sophia…she watched them as they did stuff to me. In retrospect, it was because of karma, she didn’t want the backlash but still wanted to participate. I don’t understand or know why it happened. Emma changed after Sophia came into the picture.”

“Because…you and Emma were friends before Sophia?” Victoria asked.

I nodded. “Best friends,” I said, my head down. “And I don’t understand why…Sophia is the way that she is,” I continued. “I can’t make sense of it.”

“You could ask her,” Victoria said. “Ask them.”

“But…aren’t I supposed to not care?” I said. “Move past and forget?”

“A lot of people seem to think bullying is easy to forget,” said Victoria. “But it _hurts_ and it’s hard to move past sometimes. It can decide how you act in the future, and how or if you let people in. They hurt you and it’s okay to find it hard to move past that. I think…maybe closure would do you well. It might not make you forgive them, but if you understood, then…then maybe it can make it easier for you to look past it, or forgive them if that’s what you want to do.”

“Maybe.”

“Are you okay with me giving you a hug?” Victoria asked.

I shrugged.

It was awkward to get into position – she had to move to sit on the other side of me to throw her arm over my shoulder; it was also too fleeting and spurred on some of the pain, but I did my best not to wince too loudly. I didn’t remember the last time I’d hugged a person or been hugged, and I liked it.

Victoria’s head was close to mine and her shampoo smelt nice, something rosy without being too overbearing.

“How about we invite Lisa over? Things are about to change and I have no fucking idea how that’s going to work, but I feel like friendships will be tested. Let’s cash in on that while the going’s still good.”

“That’d be nice,” I said.

Victoria made the call while I turned on the news. She grabbed the remote from me and changed the channel.

“Not good for you,” she said, before, “Hey Lisa. You busy? Yeah…okay.”

“Busy?” I asked when she’d put her phone down.

“On her way. Apparently, she’s been keeping an eye on you. You’ve been sleeping most of the day?”

“Trying to,” I said. “Too much pain.”

“Drugs help,” she said.

“They make my Sight loopy,” I said, “and I can’t help but have a bad feeling. Like…I don’t know, maybe I didn’t really win and there’s something that could happen at any moment. I won’t be much in a fight but I at least want to tackle it head on.”

“I’ve felt something similar,” said Victoria. “We won a basketball championship two years ago, and I kept having dreams that the ref would say we fouled and take the cup away. Took me a while before I let myself believe that we really deserved it.”

I frowned. “You play basketball?” I asked.

“Used to,” she said. “Why? Don’t I look it?”

“You’re…sort of a nerd, yeah,” I said. “But then you’re also a pretty good fighter. I’m not sure why I’m surprised.”

She smiled. “I get that a lot,” she said. “People can be stupid sometimes. They put a lot of emphasis on how a person looks to decide what they’re supposed to be. Just because I played basketball people have called me a jock a _lot._ Never mind that if I had the chance I’d spent more of my time behind a book than on the field.”

“Opposite with me, I think,” I said. My head lay back and I looked up, to the Sight the ceiling was a deep darkness with only a single bead of light. There had been a leak there and Dad, after trying to fix it himself, had forked over a lot of money to fix it. He’d been paranoid after the leak that another one would form, which had meant a month of him checking it over and over to no avail. “I think I do better on the fly. That thing you did when you fought that goblin to call the Well Dweller?”

“Yeah?”

“I did it twice without even thinking about it,” I told her, a dopey grin on my face. “I think we might have lost the Alabaster if it wasn’t for that. I pulled the thread, told her to stay and she _stopped._ Fucked me up too, though, because we were connected and she passed on some of that to me.”

Victoria whistled. “How’d you manage that?”

“Chompers gave me something to make connections,” I said. “He thought he was working me, but that didn’t work too well for him.” I turned to face her. “What happened with you guys after we left? What did you do to him?”

“Found Chompers and made our way back to the car,” she said. “It was slow going and Spitfire with her Elementals really pulled through in defending us. When got to the car things were easier. Some Other tried to attack but Mel’s car has some enchantment on it. She drove like a maniac until we were safe.”

I sighed. “I’m sorry I just left you guys,” I said. “Especially when you were hurt.”

“Trust me, I get it,” she said. “What you did was brave, and a little stupid.”

“The line between bravery and stupidity is _very_ thin.”

Amber appeared before us. “The boy from next door is looking at the house through his window,” they said.

“Is that dangerous?”

“He’s been looking for most of the day. I caught him near the fence. He makes my spine shiver like he’s building up courage to do something.”

“Can you keep more of an eye on him?” I asked. “Tell me if he continues?”

“I can,” they said. “I will. And there’s someone at the door.”

“I’ll get that,” said Victoria. 

“Thanks. Thank you, Amber,” I said.

Amber walked out of the living room and went upstairs where they would likely be spying on our neighbours. Victoria and Lisa came in, and with them was the wafting scent of heart-stopping burgers from Fugly Bob’s. Lisa had them in a stained paper bag, and in the other hand was another bag with drinks and chips.

“Oh, kiddo,” she said. “You look _awful.”_

“Warrior marks,” Victoria said. They sat at either side of me, with Lisa a little away, leaning against the arm and her legs almost on the couch.

“Heard you did _really_ good last night. Congratulations on your first major project,” she said with a bright smile. “Fucking more major than anything I did as a newbie practitioner.”

“Thanks,” I said with a smile.

“Not much, but there’s a burger that will put you a step closer to death.”

“How can you say that with such confidence?” said Victoria.

“Because it’s true,” Lisa said, all matter of fact. “It’s _Fugly Bob’s.”_

Victoria chuckled. Moving slowly, I took the burger and started to chew it down. It was a godsend because I hadn’t eaten much all day.

“This might be the boost I need to get started on my evening ritual,” I said with a sigh. “I’ve been dreading the clock for a while.”

“Can’t I do it for you?” Victoria asked.

“I’ve done it myself for months _,”_ I said. “It’s one of the few protections I have around the house. I don’t want to take the chance. Though I might have an idea on how to make protections, an idea I saw when we passed through Tammi the Nazi’s house last night.”

“Ooh, deets, please,” said Lisa. She opened her bag of chips. “I want to know _everything_ that happened last night. Going by the news a _lot_ was going on.”

“You share too?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said.

I started telling them about last night after I’d left Victoria, first going to the Elves and getting the wolf’s blood, then the chase through the city before the conclusion. Then it was binding the Alabaster and the confrontation between Colin and Mr Calvert.

After a bit of thought, considering the wording of the deal I’d agreed to, I told them about Mr Calvert. He hadn’t bound me from sharing information about him, but he had asked that I not tell anyone that he was my mentor, something that was no longer in the cards.

“Are you sure this is the person you want to be backing in his claim for Lordship?” Victoria asked, expression set in a frown.

“The things he’s trying to do are good,” I said. “Do you know that he’s going to try and fix the docks? Build apartment buildings there? Sure it’s to appease the Spirit of the Docks, get him on his side, but that will result in tangible good for the people of the Bay. Better than everything that’s been going on.”

“This city _has_ been going to shit,” said Lisa. “The rich are getting richer and it’s been falling to the goblins more and more over the years.”

“The Protectorate are doing the best they can,” said Victoria. “This isn’t easy.”

“The Protectorate are willing to work with the Nazis,” I said.

Victoria opened her mouth, stopped and then closed it. She sighed. “That’s been one of their major failings, yeah,” she said. “I think they’ve lost sight on that. The Nazis put on a ‘civilised’ face more than any other gang and that sometimes fools people, but their ideology is intrinsically linked to death and destruction. More people need to realise that you can’t work with that.”

“Some people don’t want to see that,” I said.

“Or they’re not hurt and so they can ignore their damage. I think maybe we should stop talking about this,” said Lisa. “I’m looking at your lines, Vicky, and I think you might think I set things up if you walk out of here with your mind changed.”

“Did you?” she asked.

“No,” she said. “I didn’t set things up to change your mind. I’ve been doing a _lot_ these past few weeks and I’m near spent. I’m saving up energy for what’s about to come.”

“Do you know what Mr Calvert is…” I stopped and took a deep breath. “You’re right, let’s skirt away from that. I need to rest and relax. Give myself time to heal up, and maybe consider whether it’s smart to get myself healed up instantly, or grit through this and maybe have a tree filled with healing apples in the futures.”

“That’s in the cards?” Lisa asked, surprised.

I nodded. “The Alabaster gave me three gifts,” I said. “One’s the hair, it’s supposed to help me help people, give me some of the Alabaster’s nature so I’m there for people in need. The other is the apple. If I eat it, I’m healed, but I could also choose to plant it for an apple tree.”

“The answer’s obvious, isn’t it?” said Victoria. “Plant it. More apples. More healing.”

“Trees take a _very_ long time to grow,” said Lisa, “and whether you like it or not you’ve made yourself important in how things play out. I think this might be a coup-claim situation.”

“And what is that?” I asked.

“Making things yours or taking the things of others,” said Lisa. “The Alabaster might be trying to make the city more hers by doing more than the Alabaster of Brockton Bay.”

“Alabasters can’t fight,” I said as I thought through her words. “Maybe this is their form of combat. Out helping each other out. But with how things are in this city, there are a lot more marginalised people in true need of help than white men with misaimed anger.”

“So they might try and take you out,” said Lisa. “Lessen the chance of that happening. I’m not saying do it, but _really_ consider if you want to be in pain for this.”

I let out a long sigh. “You just had to make this more complicated, didn’t you?” I muttered.

She shrugged. “Making sure you’re considering all you can,” she said. “But I don’t think that should be a problem for now. There’s a much bigger game and the Nazis might be preoccupied.”

“Ah,” said Victoria. “I see it now. That’s what is happening. Calvert is taking over the duties of the Protectorate by dealing with threats that they aren’t. The Protectorate is too big and if he fights it with force then they might tap Practitioners in Boston or New York.”

“This is what he meant,” I said in realisation. “When Calvert said we’d see the power the Protectorate could bring to bear, I thought it would be because of a fight. But now they have to campaign to the spirits, so to speak, which means they might use power they were going to keep in reserve to protect their claim.”

“Thus attacking the Nazis,” said Lisa. “I’m not an expert on karma, but I think the spirits wouldn’t look fondly on them if they attacked Calvert, especially after the move he just made.”

“I don’t think so, no,” said Victoria. She sighed. “Twice we’ve said we’re going to stray away from the goings-on of the Bay, and twice we’ve failed—”

“Ooh,” said Lisa. “Practitioner speak and everything.”

“Shut up,” she said, smiling. “I’m just wondering, by the rule of three, if I said it, would it stick this time or would we discuss something more serious?”

“Try it,” I said.

“We shouldn’t talk about this,” said Victoria. “Let’s turn on the TV. Maybe there’s something on.”

She grabbed the remote and flicked it on.

 _“Breaking news,”_ said the news anchor, _“we’ve recently received evidence that Max Anders, CEO of Medhall, might be in league with the criminal and white supremacist organisation, Empire Eighty-Eight…”_

“Guess that explains that,” said Lisa, a hint of pride in her voice. She settled back and continued to eat her chips while Victoria and watched, transfixed, as the anchor detailed all the information they had received.

***

Medhall had two buildings in Brockton Bay, the first was the factory north of the Lower Bay, surrounded on most sides by thick forestry and a tall electric fence, with only one road stretching from the facility into the city; and the Medhall head office which was located downtown. The factory produced pharmaceuticals that were carted to Boston before they were shipped, mostly, to a company in Germany; and the head office did admin stuff I couldn’t wrap my head around.

After the news of Max Anders being tied to Nazis, a _lot_ of scrutiny had turned onto the company and some glaring issues had been noted: There was exactly one person of colour in their executive board — which turned out to be false three days later when it was found that the woman wasn’t black, just that she could pass for black; there weren’t any people of colour in middle management or supervisory positions; and statistically, even accounting for dropout rates in Winslow or schools in the Lower Bay, the number of people of colour working in the head office was off.

The same couldn’t be said for the factory, which had large numbers of people of colour, especially in minimum wage positions. The place also wasn’t without its problems: Working hours that stretched too long; reports of harassment that went unanswered; almost no time off or vacation; and reports that some people had been fired when they’d been trying to start a union.

Mr Calvert had first attacked a dogfighting ring with Rachel, something small and inconsequential; then he’d attacked some of their illegal and magical operations, something larger in scale and harder to shake; and finally, revealing the allegiance between the Nazis and Medhall. By the rule of three the attack was more powerful — a rock rolling down a hill with too much momentum to be stopped cleanly.

“Things are tense out there,” Dad said.

I hadn’t eaten my apple yet and where the pain had been easier to shrug off before, things felt different now. The freeing of the Alabaster had been part of the attack, giving the Alabaster of Brockton Bay less influence and forcing him to focus on the Alabaster. It wasn’t out of the question that they might try to attack me so they could have full use of all their remaining assets.

I was slightly on edge, worried for my own safety, but more than anything the safety of the city.

“Yeah,” I said, on the couch, staying very still so I didn’t disturb any of my hurts. There were bandages over each injury and I’d drawn out a connection breaker, adding notation in the form of a statement to ward away Dad’s attention. “It’s scary.”

“Some guys I know who work at the factory are talking about a strike,” Dad said. “Everyone decides not to go to work until Anders is suspended.”

“Do you think it’s going to work?” I asked.

“The last time workers decided to strike we lost the docks,” Dad said. “I _want_ this to work, but…stuff like this doesn’t work for people like us. The guys at the top always win.”

“Things could be different this time.”

I must have sounded anxious because Dad stopped to look at me.

“You’re really worried about this, huh?” he said. I shrugged. “I’m about to tell you something, but I don’t want you to worry, okay?”

I frowned, anticipating the worst. “That’s not how you start things if you don’t want me to be worried.” Carefully I sat up, crossing my legs so they were both on the couch. “What’s going on?”

“I’m helping with the organising. That’s what is going to make or break this strike. We need to do it properly and carefully, make it big and get enough attention so that we make national news, but hopefully things don’t descend into chaos so only a bad side of our protest is seen.”

As scary as everything going on in the Bay was, I couldn’t help but smile because Dad sounded more alive than he had in a _very_ long time. It felt like he’d found his purpose for the first time since Mom had died.

But my anxiety grew to supersede the brief happiness. There were other threats to think about, _Practitioner_ threats. A curse had found its way to Dad because of bad karma and he’d had a bad day, what would happen if a curse was _sent_ to him. Would he be able to protect himself?

“I’m going to be okay,” said Dad. “I won’t be at the front of the action. Just helping people so that _some_ good comes from this protest.”

“I get it,” I said, thinking about everything I’d been doing, about the chase of the Alabaster. It was just as dangerous — if not more so — as what Dad would be doing, but I’d recognised that it was work that should still be done no matter the danger. “We have to put ourselves a little at risk to do good things.”

Dad’s smile was bright, he teared up a little. “You’re so much like Annette,” he said, his voice wistful. He turned back to the TV and the smile disappeared. “I am afraid of you going back to school tomorrow. Like I said, things are tense out there.”

“I could just not go,” I said. Because I was still hurt and I was worried Tammi the Nazi might try something back at school. “Wait until things calm down.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” said Dad.

I spent most of the next day worried about Dad, looking over my notes to see if I could make him something to protect him from curses and other malign magical effects. Fighting Tammi the Nazi had given me an idea for an active barrier. She’d had an echo that had come out of its hallow after a condition had been met and I could do the same thing. Which would need me to first create hallows, then echoes that would serve as guards, and finally deals that were fair.

Amber and my treatment of them were something I’d started to think about a lot in the moments before I fell asleep. First how I’d made them without a lot of thought of the implications, and finally how I’d started to treat them less like a living being, and more like an object. I didn’t want to do the same thing with other Others, which meant I had to be particular in which echoes I chose and how I used them.

The Abusive Man seemed like an echo without any of the ambiguity that Amber had, which made me feel better in how I used him. I just had to find similar Others to bind and use, while offering those like Amber refuge if they needed it, and actually _paying_ them in some way if I wanted them to do something for me.

Which was all set for the future because I didn’t think I could go out there and be as active as I was needed to be to catch an echo.

“The boy from next door is coming,” said Amber, waking me from a nap. I got up and checked my phone. It was past noon.

“Anything I should be worried about? Is he a Practitioner?” I asked, rubbing sleep from my eyes.

“I think you should be worried,” said Amber. “He’s been worried and there’s been strange things going on at his house. I heard sounds and his lights kept going on and off. But I don’t know much else.”

“Okay,” I said with a nod. I reached for my stick, then the belt with the Abusive Man, before I hobbled downstairs. Amber stopped me as I started towards the front door, directing me to the back.

I reached the door just as the first knock came.

With a breath to steel myself, I opened the door.

Jaden stood on the other side. He was my age, with features that made him look racially ambiguous — light skin, curly hair that was cut short, light, almond shaped brown eyes, and pale, full lips.

“Taylor,” he said, taking me in. I hadn’t put on the attention turning diagrams so he saw the full lengths of how hurt I was. It made him stop short.

“Hey, Jaden,” I said. “How are you? And how’s your mom been? Dad told me she went to hospital?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Can I come in? I want to talk to you about something. Maybe ask for some help.”

I shrugged and stepped back. He took that invitation and came in. Amber was close and Jaden didn’t even notice them as he walked through the kitchen to the living room. He didn’t sit, instead he paced.

My body just couldn’t take too much standing, so I sat and watched him, my hand curled tight around the belt with the Abusive Man. I really hoped I wouldn’t need to use it because I didn’t know how to navigate attacking an innocent with magic.

Maybe hitting him with just the belt would impart some of the effect of the echo without the ghost having to come out.

“Okay,” Jaden said eventually. He stopped and gave me his full attention. “You mentioned my mom, right? How she went to hospital? And, one of the things my mom said, the reason she had to go away, was because she started seeing things.”

“Things like what?” I asked, keeping my voice gentle. The feelings weren’t as strong as when I’d had the mask infused with Alabaster blood, but I felt a natural draw towards Jaden. I made a mental note to pay attention to the feeling so I wouldn’t miss people nudged my way by the Alabaster’s hair.

“Ghosts,” he said. “I know, _crazy,_ right? That’s why we sent her to hospital, but then I start seeing and hearing strange things too. Footsteps when Marshall and me were turning in, doors opening and closing, that kind of stuff. Then it got worse, I’d wake up at night and a woman would be standing over me, just watching me. But that’s not even half of it, because sometimes I’ll get home and there’ll be food out on the table, freshly cooked.”

“And it’s not your brother?”

“No, Marshall gets home late,” he said. Jaden frowned. “He thinks the same thing that happened to mom is happening to me because even if I leave some of the food out for him it’s always gone. Or I’ll take pictures and they’ll either be deleted or he’ll just think I’m the one that cooked the food.” He sighed. “I know this sounds crazy, really, I do—” 

“Why did come to me specifically?” I interrupted.

“Because I was awake one night and I saw you,” he said. “I don’t know what time it was, but it was after midnight. You were dressed in a sort of coat and you had blood all over your face. You were with some people, one of them had some _really_ bad jaundice, and the other one was like you, dressed in a freaky costume. I know you’re into some witchy stuff, people talk about it in the neighbourhood. You’ve been seen walking around at night sometimes, and other people have seen you through your window spitting into corners. Shot in the dark, I thought I might ask for help.”

The night had been something of a blur. I’d been too focused on catching the Alabaster that night and maybe I’d overlooked a stray web of a guy who was more focused on a monster in his house.

I sighed. “Okay,” I said.

“Okay?” he said, genuinely surprised.

“I’ll check it out,” I said. “See if there’s anything ‘witchy’ that’s there. But there’s ground rules: You don’t ask for explanations and you do anything I say. At least within reason.”

“If you help me with this, I’ll do _whatever_ you want,” he said. “Just…just help me with this, okay? Cause I don’t want to be crazy.”

I nodded and stood. “Can you give me a tour of your house?” I asked. “Just in case I notice anything strange.”

“Now?” he said. “Don’t you need to go at night or something?”

“No questions, Jaden,” I said.

“Right. Yeah. Fine,” he said. “Do you need to lean on me or something, because you look...”

“I can walk,” I said, though as he left I whispered for my stick. We left through the front door because I wouldn’t be able to jump over the fence out back, then went into Jaden’s house. On our way, I saw a poster of a lost dog, and as I moved past, the dog’s eyes lingered on me. When I glanced back, the picture was normal. A glance with the Sight showed there was nothing magical with the poster.

Jaden’s was bigger than mine, a more expansive first floor with a study filled with a lot of old laws books. To my eyes the space wasn’t used a lot, but when I tuned things on with the Sight everything blazed with attention and love.

“Can you tell me about this place?” I asked.

“My Dad’s office,” said Jaden with a smile. “He was a lawyer, not a big deal or anything, but he’d always hole up in here when he was very busy. He let me come here and stay with him as long as I was quiet. I coloured a lot, then did my homework when I was old enough.”

“What happened to him?” I asked. “If you don’t mind my asking?”

“Stroke,” he said, his voice quiet and attention down. “He was working a high-profile case that would have meant a _lot_ for his firm. The doctors think stress was the reason he got the stroke.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.

He shrugged. “It’s how it is. You know what it’s like to lose a parent. I heard about what happened to your mom.”

I swallowed. “Yeah,” I said. “Which is why my Dad is so important.”

He nodded. “Mom for me.”

I looked around and picked through some of the books, picking up some of the awards on spread out on bookcases and on the work desk. There were some sports medals, with the years not fitting Jaden which meant they belonged to Marshall. On the wall, framed and everything, were certificates belonging to everyone in the family, from the parents to Jaden himself.

A baseball caught my attention.

It was bright against the Sight but there was something odd about it. I looked deeper and saw impressions of images, the sound of the ball slamming against a bat or slapping against a mitt.

“That’s been in my family for…three generations,” said Jordan, after I’d been staring at the ball for a while. “My great-grandfather bought it for my grandfather when there was still a baseball scene in the Bay, then he gave it to Dad after he taught him how to play, and Dad gave it to me. Marshall wasn’t into baseball growing up.”

That explained the impressions.

We moved on, first into the basement which was filled with a lot of stuff with sheets over them, dust hanging heavy in the air.

“We don’t use this place,” he said. “This house has been in my father’s side of the family for a _very_ long time and this is some of the junk that’s accumulated. Before this stuff happened, mom was cleaning it up to see if we could sell some of this stuff.”

Most of the basement was dark, but there was a point with light so bright I could see it under the coverings. I moved over to them, used my stick to pull the sheet off and found a large, leather trunk.

“Can you open that please?”

Jaden tried but the trunk was locked. “Give me a sec,” he said. He ran upstairs and came back with a knife, he stabbed it into the lock, jimmied it and tried to pop the trunk open. He tried it a few times before it finally opened, the moment it was he scrambled back. “Fuck.”

The trunk was filled with dolls, nine of them, knitted in the shape of women dressed in clothes that looked out of date. They had the type of dresses that had aprons over them, the types of shirts that looked like they were scratchy against skin, and most wore bonnets to cover their hair.

“I didn’t know we had more of these,” said Jaden.

“You know what these are?”

He nodded. “Dolls someone on dad’s side of the family made,” he said. “A great-grandmother maybe? There’s two of them in mom’s room, those ones she likes and was planning to put them out on eBay. She found one that was in blackface during the clean-up and decided to burn it because even if these dolls are valuable, she doesn’t want whatever fucked up person will buy it.”

“Did your father ever mention these?” I asked. “Did you ever see them? Or anyone in the family?”

“No?” he said. “Not that I know. Only the two that mom found.”

That didn’t make sense because spiritually the dolls were bright, and with connections between each other and from themselves to Jaden.

“Weird thing that mom noticed though, was that the hair was real human hair,” said Jaden.

_This starting to make a little more sense._

“This is where you’re going to need to not ask questions and do as I say.”

Jaden swallowed. “Okay. What do I have to do?”

“The rest of the dolls. I’m going to need you to bring them together,” I said. “I’m going to go to my house and get some stuff. I’ll need a room and some floor space cleared. Put everything there and I’ll start to work. If things get weird, stop and come to get me. Don’t try anything, okay?”

 _“Will_ things get weird?” he asked.

_You’re not supposed to be asking questions._

“Maybe,” I said. “Let’s get to work.”

I went to my place — on the way seeing a sparrow that stopped chirping and went too quiet as I passed — and got my chalk, some salt and my coat. A part of me wanted to get decked up in all my gear, but Jaden was an innocent and I didn’t want to accidentally get him to grok onto magic.

When I got back to his place — a cloud passing overhead looking almost like an eye before it broke apart — he was waiting for me.

“Everything’s set up,” he said. “Follow me.”

He led me into the living room where he’d pushed back the table and sofa, and moved a rug carpet so I had access to hardwood floors. He stopped.

“They’re…how…where did they go?” He turned to me. “They were right here. Honestly. I put them all here.”

“Calm down,” I said. My backpack fell with a heavy thud against the floor. I put on my cloak and some of the pain eased. “Remember what I said?”

“Things could get weird,” he said, his gaze stuck on the cloak. “Do what you say and don’t ask questions.”

I nodded.

_I wish I’d grabbed one of the dolls._

“Can you get me that baseball?” I asked and I was surprised by how calm I sounded.

He nodded and ran to the office. The moment he was out of the living room a woman appeared. She was white, tall and heavy-set, with greyed hair done in a bun, she wore an old dress and she had a pursed expression. In one hand, she held a carving knife poised for stabbing.

“Get out of my home,” she said, her voice a whisper.

Before I could say anything the woman disappeared, though the knife didn’t do the same. A second later Jaden appeared. He stopped short, his attention going the knife which had stabbed tip first into the floor, its handle still rattling. He looked from the knife to me.

“Remember what I said,” I told him.

“No questions. No questions. No questions.”

He came over and handed the ball over to me. I took and looked at the spread of connections, looking at the brightest. One to Jaden, another, to the closest doll, beneath the couch; with my stick, I pointed.

Jaden went and peaked, he pulled out a doll.

“How…?” he asked.

“No questions, Jaden,” I said. “That’s _very_ important.”

Again he said his mantra.

I pointed at my feet and he put the doll there. There was only confidence running through me as I drew a medium sized circle around the doll, one that would be large enough to fit all eleven of them.

Using the doll, I tracked more of them.

“In the kitchen,” I said. “There’ll be two of them. No matter what you hear, don’t come back in here until you have those dolls.”

Jaden darted away, passing the knife. The moment he was out of side the woman appeared, bent and picked up the knife; she strode towards me.

“Get out of my house,” she said, her voice a whisper. “This is _my_ house.”

“Do you have a name?” I asked. My heart rate picked up. I had on my cloak but I wasn’t as agile as I had been before, and I didn’t have that many Others to shield me from her.

“This is _my_ house,” she said. “Get out.”

The words weren’t much louder, but I _felt_ them. A niggling feeling that I was trespassing and that I should get out. That I was no longer an invited guest.

“No,” I said. “You’re an echo. The rights of this house belonged to the person who died, not you. You might be a part of them, but you are not them. This is _not_ your house. Now I ask you for the second time, what is your name?”

The knife fell again a moment before Jaden appeared carrying two dolls.

“You were speaking to someone,” he said. “And that’s not a question.”

I didn’t say anything, only pointing into the circle. He placed the doll inside.

“That knife keeps moving but you’re standing in one place. I don’t hear your footsteps,” said Jaden.

“Upstairs,” I said and pointed with my stick. He started to turn. “Wait.” I bent low and reached for a handful of salt. “Go.” He ran off.

The woman appeared, grabbed her knife and ran forward. I dashed salt towards her and she disappeared, the knife clattering to the floor.

With my hand now on my belt, I waited.

Jaden returned holding four dolls. He looked first at the knife, then noticed the salt that had been scattered on the floor.

I used the dolls again and pointed while grabbing more salt. 

Jaden ran off without another word.

A web flared behind me. I twisted around throwing salt but the woman had already disappeared. I whipped around once more and spotted her in the circle between her dolls; with a scream, she swept her hand and the chalk circle broke. She rushed me, her body more corporeal.

I pulled the belt free and whipped it. The Abusive Man appeared with the snap of leather.

“Sheila! Why do you make me do this?” he said while stepping forward. The woman stopped short, tried to scramble back and failed. The Abusive Man grabbed one of her arms and with the other _slapped_ her.

The hit surprised me because there wasn’t even hesitation. I hadn’t even ordered them Abusive Man to do it, he’d just done what came naturally to him.

Without pause, the man _threw_ the woman against a table and she hit it instead of moving through.

“You make me _so_ angry, you know that?” the Abusive Man said, getting more powerful. “Always undermining me. Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You think you’re funny, don’t you? Getting those barbs in. You think I’m dumb and I don’t notice.”

“Stop,” I ordered and the Abusive Man stopped. “Echo, you have given me no name. Two times I’ve asked, but this time I don’t ask but _bid._ Tell me your name or you’ll find yourself named by me.”

“Elizabeth,” the woman said. “Elizabeth Cooke.”

“Echo of Elizabeth Cooke,” I said, further distancing her from the woman who’d lived so she wouldn’t try to force me out of the house again. “What is your relation to Jaden?”

“He is born of my blood,” she said. “Mixed with—”

“You can stop,” I said. “Did you haunt his mother?”

 _“That_ woman,” she said and her expression twisted. “She burnt a part of me. It is because of _her_ that I have awakened. She took a part of me and I took a part of her. I am her superior and for her gall—”

“Are you the only spirit in this house?”

“Yes,” she said.

I nodded. “Abusive Man, hold her as much as you can,” I said.

Eagerly, the man stepped forward and cruelly, hoisted her up and held her tight.

I redrew the circle around the dolls and finished as Jaden came back.

He had the rest of the dolls and he dropped them into the circle.

“Now leave,” I said. “I’ll call you back when I’m done.”

Jaden looked around, lingered and then left.

“These dolls have parts of your _self,_ Echo of Elizabeth Cooke, and now I order you to their side.”

She disappeared from the Abusive Man’s hold and appeared in the circle with the dolls. The man turned and strode towards her.

“Stop,” I ordered and he did.

“I bind you into these dolls, Echo of Elizabeth Cooke,” I said. “I bind you in form and spirit, to reside within them until you’re called.”

“I refuse,” she said. “This house is my home.”

“By the ties that bind all, I can see that the dolls are more of a home to you than this house,” I said. “A second time I say: I bind you into these dolls, Echo of Elizabeth Cooke. I bind you in form and spirit, to reside within them until you’re called.”

“I refuse. I refuse. Jaden is my family.”

“Do you accept Jaden’s mother as kin through marriage?” I asked. “Black woman that she is?” Elizabeth’s expression twisted. I took a breath, the next part was risky, but it felt right. “With certainty, I can say, given the choice between you and his mother, Jaden would claim his mother as family and not you. If you cannot see Jaden’s mother as kin – half the blood that runs through him – you likewise cannot claim him in his entirety. I have spoken to Jaden and I know he calls identifies as black with everything attached. By this, your ties to Jaden are weaker still, while your ties to your dolls are strong and solid. A third time I say: I bind you into these dolls, Echo of Elizabeth Cooke. I bind you in form and spirit, to reside within them until you’re called.”

Elizabeth bowed her head and disappeared.

“Back into the belt.” The Abusive Man disappeared. “Jaden!” I said and I drew a line on the ground with my stick to increase our connection. It caught me by surprise that it worked so easily, but then, I’d beaten so many magical things with my stick that some of their blood would have gotten on it.

“Is it done?”

“I think so,” I said. “I’m not sure how well it’s going to stick if the dolls are still in this house. You said you’d do anything. Sell me these dolls for two hundred bucks.”

“Yeah, fuck, take them,” he said. “They’re creepy anyway. Are you sure? That it’s done? If my mom comes back, she won’t see ghosts again?”

“Like I said. I think so,” I told him. “Keep your eye out and if there’s anything else call me, okay?”

He nodded. “If you’re fucking with me, you did a _really_ good job,” he said. “But if you aren’t. Thanks.”

The Alabaster had said this job would be thankless, but if everyone was as grateful as Jaden, then it would be worth it.

He helped me get the dolls in my backpack. I offered to clean up the mess but he told me it was fine. As I walked home, I let myself ride the high of my success which was when I noticed the fox at my door.

“Hebert,” said the fox in Sophia’s voice. “We have to talk.”


	26. Chapter 26

The conversation with Victoria played over and over in my head as I watched the shadow fox drink milk from a little bowl. Sophia had been lapping it up for the last five minutes, an annoying presence in my home that made my earlier good mood evaporate as a tide of uncertainty consumed me.

“You said you wanted to talk,” I said, getting Sophia’s attention. She was on the table and I sat on the couch across from her; my feet ached from all the standing I’d done binding the Echo of Elizabeth Cooke.

She looked up from her milk, fiery eyes taking me in. Sedately, she licked at the milk that had stuck to the fur around her mouth. From me, her head tilted to look around the living room, never settling in one place, taking everything in.

I took a deep breath and counted to ten, holding myself back from rescinding her invitation.

“You look better than you did a while back,” she said, nonchalant.

I shrugged. “Medicine and a lot of sleep,” I said.

“So you didn’t eat the apple?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Not a lot,” she said. “You were out of the house; do you do that a lot?”

“I don’t answer to you, Sophia,” I said, unable to keep back my irritation. “I don’t have to explain what I do with my day. What’s this about?”

“I’m being watched,” she said. She stood and stretched her fox body, muscles of bunched darkness shifting beneath fur that drifted up in smoky curls and wisps. “Every time I get out of the house there’s eyes on me. They’re very subtle. I don’t think I would have been able to see them without Ji-eun keeping track or the gift from the Garden Route making my eyes sharper. But I managed to look back and it’s Tammi the Nazi.”

I frowned. “I don’t get out of the house a lot,” I told her. “Today was the only day I’ve really gone out, and I spotted eyes three times. First from a poster, then a bird and finally a cloud that looked like an eye.”

“That’s it,” said Sophia, bobbing her head up and down. “No matter how subtle you make it, the universe always gives a tell away when you’re being watched. Some Practitioners are good at feeling out that sort of shit, but some of us aren’t.”

“You’re sure it’s Tammi?”

She nodded. “The three of us are in combat. There’s been two matches already: First when she sent that fucked up ghost of hers, then when we hit her chasing after the Alabaster. There’s a third reckoning waiting and it’s going to be the most impactful. Her watching us, it tells me she’s preparing for some shit, and with both of us run ragged after the Alabaster we don’t have the upper hand.”

 _“Fuck,”_ I muttered. “Do you know how she’s going to attack or the resources she has?”

“No,” said Sophia. “Couldn’t look too closely without her spotting me and attacking sooner. Right now, what works for us is she doesn’t know we know, and she doesn’t know we’re talking. So, we can work against her, whatever she’s got.”

“She didn’t see you come here?”

“I’m slippery like this,” she said. “She’s scoping out my house where my body’s teaching Emma and Madison a few tricks on the practice. She shouldn’t know that we’re talking, unless she’s getting help, which she might be if she’s pulling off something like this. If you hadn’t noticed, Tammi the Nazi doesn’t have a lot of talent. You’re newer to this stuff and you pulled off shit like the Alabaster but her…what’s she got under her name? Scrounging up a few echoes?”

My mind went to the apple. I wanted to plant it, because it would be doing the best in the future, but what good could there be if Tammi hit me so hard that I died and couldn’t plant the tree?

“Have you spoken to Mr Calvert?” I asked. If he fought on our side, ended the threat Tammi posed, then I wouldn’t have to use the apple.

 _“We_ have to end this,” said Sophia. “We started it and we’re the ones who are going to get the most out of it if we kick her ass. Calling Calvert will water down our claim.”

“So there’s pride attached,” I muttered.

Sophia let out something that sounded like an annoyed sneeze. “Come on, Hebert,” she said. “I was starting to respect this new you, don’t go ruining it now.”

I scowled at her. I didn’t want her respect and I didn’t care if was ruining it now; but I could use the fact she didn’t want Calvert in on things to my advantage.

“It’s very likely better for me to just call Calvert,” I said. “I don’t get a lot out of this deal. I don’t care about a decisive victory against Tammi, just that she and her people aren’t coming after me. But I could do it for you. For a price.”

“What’s your price?” she asked, her tone hesitant.

“Answers,” I said. “Everything around you, Emma and Madison. Why she ditched me and became your friend, and why the three of you made my life hell.”

“You’re really still hung up on that?” Sophia said, dismissive.

My hands clenched into fists as I crossed my arms. It was always irritating how much she pushed the consequences of what she and the others had done to me. There’d been the taunts and the comments, stealing my mother’s flute, stealing my backpack and ruining some books, and eventually the locker which had resulted in me having a mark that had meant I couldn’t have friends at Winslow.

“Before I join in the planning,” I said. “I want deals from each of you, that I’ll ask you questions and you’ll answer them honestly and completely.”

 _This is for closure,_ I told myself. _So I can put the bullying behind me._

Sophia was quiet for a long moment before she said, “I’ll talk to the others. Keep an eye out for me, Hebert. I’ll be back later today.”

After she left I went down into the basement to deposit the dolls, binding them in circles of salt, then I brought out the apple and stared at it.

 _It would be so easy to take a bite,_ I thought as I picked it up and turned it over in my hand. It hadn’t been refrigerated but it was still as cool as the night I’d gotten it from the Alabaster, blindingly bright when looked at with the Sight. 

I didn’t think I’d be able to do it, to ignore the apple as I dealt with Tammi or whatever was going on in the rest of the city.

Pushing myself, I went upstairs into the kitchen, dug around until I found an old tin can, then filled it with dirt from the backyard. I pushed the apple in, covered and watered it. A moment after I was done the dirt shifted and a bud grew out.

 _No digging that out now,_ I thought. _I’ve made my decision and I’ll have to stick with it._

With the apple out of the way, I turned my focus to how I would go on the attack. I only had three Others on my side, two of which might be fighters, but only one I knew for sure would be able to fight. I had my chain, stick and the flashlight, but all those needed my body to work okay and I wouldn’t have that.

Beyond that I didn’t have anything else…

No, beyond objects and Others I had friends I could call for help.

I went to my phone and dialled Victoria first.

“Taylor,” she said, her smile audible. “How are you? Sorry I haven’t been around to visit. It’s been a hectic few days.”

“I get it,” I said. “Are you busy with any big projects? With things as they are in the Bay I’m guessing a lot of people are doing things.”

“You could say that,” said Victoria. “The family’s decided to hit while the iron’s hot, so to speak. The Nazi’s are having a bad time from a few directions and we’re adding to the assault. It’s exciting. We haven’t done something as a family in a while.”

“So you’re busy?” I asked.

“Why?” Victoria asked, her tone changing. “Are you in trouble?”

“Tammi the Nazi might be spying on me,” I said. “Sophia thinks she might be trying to close things in a decisive win and she wants us to work together. But I’m hurt and most of my fighting is done through physical combat. I was hoping for help.”

“Damn,” she muttered. “I’ve already committed to the family. I’m sorry—”

“It’s…not fine, but understandable,” I interrupted, the words short.

“Can’t you call Calvert for help? He’s your mentor.”

“Sophia doesn’t want him as a part of this,” I said. “She’s willing to make a deal that’ll mean I get closure, answers for everything that happened and I want to take it.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I get that. I’m…I wish I could offer you something. An Other or knowledge, but…”

“Like I said, understandable. I’ll call Lisa to see if she can get me some help,” I told her. “You really don’t have to worry. If it looks like she’s busy too, then I’ll get Calvert’s help, closure be damned.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice heavy. “Stay safe, Taylor. Things are getting tense out there.”

“You too. Bye,” I said and called Lisa, a little afraid that I didn’t really have friends, that the illusion might break and I’d have to depend on only myself. “Hey, Lisa.”

“Yo,” she said. “What’s going on, girl?”

“I might need help,” I said. “Tammi the Nazi might be coming after me.”

“We’ll be there in thirty minutes,” said Lisa. “Get some food ready. We’ll be staying there a while.”

A breath I’d unknowingly held in was shakily let out, and a tension in my shoulder eased.

I’d be working with Emma, Sophia and Madison, three people who’d made life not worth living, but I’d be surrounded by friends and allies. This time around, being around them wouldn’t be like Winslow, because this time I had support.

***

The last of the food and drinks arrived a minute before the Undersiders, which meant it was either luck or Lisa had had an inkling what I was going to do and timed things so she’d arrive after the food. I’d gone overboard, ordering from a few different places so we had enough food to take us into the night and however long we’d spend at my house.

I’d ordered expecting all the Undersiders, but there were only four: Lisa, Trevor, Rachel and her dogs, as well as a young girl — dark skinned, purple highlights in her hair, with eyes aglow showing that her Sight was active.

“Taylor, this is Aisha,” said Lisa, “Grue’s sister and recently inducted member of the Undersiders.”

I smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she said. “Cool coat. Is it real animal fur?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Goat skin.”

“Fur is murder,” she said with a straight face.

“Um…”

She grinned and cackled at my expression.

“Can we come in?” Rachel asked, her tone short and her expression put off. “There’s food in there and I’m starving.”

“Oh,” I said and took a step back. “Sorry. Come in.”

Rachel stepped in her dogs following. She’d only brought three and when looked at with the Sight, they had furrows in their skin that gave me the sense that they unfolded. I’d seen what they could become back at the council meeting, dogs as big as bike with an exterior of hard muscle and bone.

I stepped further away from them.

“Don’t worry about the dogs,” said Lisa, sidling alongside me. “So long as Rachel doesn’t have them attack you, things are okay where they’re concerned.”

“Don’t annoy me and I won’t have to attack you,” said Rachel. “Can we eat the food?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You’re free to the food.”

The living room had three chairs, one a three-seater which looked at the television, and two smaller one-seaters at an angle on either side. She sat on the furthest one-seater near the kitchen, grabbed a bag with burgers, took one out and another she broke into pieces. “Sit,” she said and the dogs did. She gave each of them a piece of them meat, then the bun. She started to eat her own.

“Long time no see,” said Trevor, his smile bright. He looked just as I remembered him save there was a cut over his left eye still healing. “I heard you went and became awesome in the meantime.”

I shrugged, a little self-conscious. “I’m sure that cut has a story too,” I said.

“Almost got killed by a Revenant,” Trevor said with too much excitement.

“Come on,” said Lisa. “Let’s sit down. Taylor doesn’t look like she can stand standing too long.”

“Boo,” said Aisha. “I think that was intentional, so boo!”

“It was,” Lisa admitted. “Went all out, didn’t you?” she said to me.

“If I’m asking for help, it’s better if I feed you, right?”

“No complaints from me,” said Trevor, before he started to wolf down a slice of pizza. Aisha sat and grabbed the bag filled with Mexican food. She dug around, found something she was interested in and started to eat.

“Where are Grue and Alec?” I asked.

“Requisitioned by the boss,” said Lisa. “There’s a lot of unrest in town and it’s waking up some Papermen that were dormant. Alec’s either adding them to his thralls or sapping their power so they can go to sleep again. And Grue’s working with Atticus so he can get himself together enough that he can take dominion of a portion of the Lower Bay.”

“Sounds like everyone’s been busy,” I said.

“A lot’s going on out there,” said Trevor, “and it’s _exciting._ Some of the Practitioners in the Trainyard are waking up and starting to do stuff, lending their power in small ways. I think everyone sees that E88 is on the outs and they’re trying to get things moving.”

“Good riddance,” said Aisha. “I can’t wait to see those fuckers get what they deserve.”

Trevor, Lisa and I nodded.

One of Rachel’s dogs left her side and came to me, a Rottweiler with a shiny black coat, red lines running through it. As it came closer lines along its neck thickened and viscera spilled out, largely black though with bits of colour. In a flash the flesh warped into two heads, their tongues lolled out, panting excitedly.

I froze for a _very_ long time, looking down at the dog which was looking at me excitedly.

“It smells something off you,” said Rachel. “You smell close to a dog.”

Some of the wolf’s blood still lingering after I’d used it. Not enough that it was useful, but enough people knew it was a power in my repertoire.

“Um…Can I pet him?” I asked.

“Hold your hand out and he’ll come to you if he wants,” she said. “And his name’s Brutus.”

The middle and leftmost heads turned towards Rachel, Brutus’s head wagging a lot more while the rightmost head still looked at me. Slowly and carefully I held out my hand and waited. The dog stepped forward and the other heads turned towards me. Snout first, the dog duck into my head.

I started to scratch it.

“He’s not an egg,” Rachel said, annoyed. “He won’t break. Scratch harder.”

I took her cue and scratched harder, empowered nails digging through its coat into skin. The dog leaned closer, burying himself into me, his tail wagging with more vigour. Brutus jumped onto the sofa beside me and, carefully, settled on my lap.

He was hefty and at first gave me a shock of pain, but he didn’t move much after that.

“I don’t remember him being that friendly when he met me,” Lisa said.

“That’s because you’re annoying,” Rachel said. Aisha let out a bark of surprised laughter. “Don’t laugh too hard. You’re annoying too. She speaks too much, and you get in people’s faces a lot.”

“Okay,” said Lisa. “Let’s not start, okay? There’s food, you can eat.”

Rachel shrugged and got back to giving her dogs food.

Brutus didn’t move from my lap even as the others were eating. I tried to reach for the food on the table and couldn’t quite get there.

Hand held out, I said, “Stick. Come!”

My stick, on the other side of the room, jumped through the air, spun and landed in my waiting hand. I pulled the food closer and started to feed Brutus’ three heads.

“Cool trick,” said Aisha.

I smiled. “Thanks,” I said.

“How do you do it?” she asked. “I’ve learned to move a few things like telekinesis but it’s through a rune and it takes a _lot_ of power I don’t have yet.”

“That’s what sucks the most with being new,” said Trevor. “You have to spend _so_ much time first getting power. But you’re lucky, we’re there to help you. I remember when I was still alone, and trying to bind a _minor_ goblin would be the work of _weeks.”_

“Now look at you,” said Lisa. “You have skates and everything.”

“You have magic skates?” I said.

Grinning brightly, Trevor nodded. “After the cut, Mr Calvert introduced me to some Cultist who prays to a god that’s all about motion and travel or something like that. I made a hallow and the woman carried the rollerblades with her as she was going into her god’s domain, some of his essence got into the skates and now they’re _wicked_ cool. I’ve been using them a lot, getting places so that they draw in similar spirits into them and they get better.”

“Oh fuck,” I said, jumping a little. Brutus, two heads eating burgers, whined. “I just had a fantastic idea that’ll mean I’m not wasting as much power on the rune on my chain. Fuck, why didn’t I think about it? I’ve fed heat into the chain a whole bunch of time, if I made it into a hallow and then walked through the Ruins, maybe I could collect an echo of fire to live there, giving the chain its own heat.”

“Okay, I’m all for that, because that sounds awesome as all hell,” said Aisha. “Maybe I can make something too. I know how to make a hallow and how to temper stuff.”

“When did you learn that?” Lisa said, though her gaze was pointedly directed at Trevor.

 _“What,”_ he said. “She asked for help and I helped. Anyway, Alec was a part of it too.”

“Just don’t tell my brother, okay?” Aisha said.

Lisa shrugged. “It’s not going to be as simple, anyway,” she said. “Taylor’s already put in the work. You would have to temper the object first, getting it to draw in the spirits that you want which will take a while. Otherwise random immaterial Others would get drawn in.”

“It’d still be my own magic object,” said Aisha. “Way more useful than what Bry—Grue’s got me practising. I get it, connections are important and you do a lot with them, Lisa, but I don’t want to spend my time redirecting attention like he wants me to.”

“Give him time until all of this Nazi stuff settles down. I think he’ll give you more breathing room after that,” said Lisa. Aisha didn’t look happy with that. Lisa smiled as she looked at me. “Anyway, we’re here for a job—”

“Job?” I said.

“Job and socialising both,” said Lisa. “Mr Calvert’s been having us sit around ready to give you a hand in case we were needed. You’re a target with the whole Alabaster thing. The head Nazi is busy trying to keep himself from losing his wealth, but it was always in the cards that they’d try something with you. So we kind of expected something like this.”

It hurt to think about because it meant this wasn’t a friendly gesture but business.

“Which doesn’t mean we wouldn’t have come if you’d just asked,” Lisa said, as if reading my thoughts.

I shrugged.

Lisa clapped her hands. “So, how are we going to deal with this?” she asked. “What’s the plan of attack?”

“I haven’t started thinking about it,” I said. “I don’t know if this is even going to be a thing. At least not for sure. Sophia, Emma and Madison have to agree to a deal first before things are sorted.”

“Sophia’s the one with a hate boner for Bry—Grue, right?” said Aisha. “We’re really working with her?”

“We’re helping Taylor,” Lisa said with a shrug, her eyes flashing pink as they bore into me. “If she says we do, then we do. What’s the alternative? If she doesn’t accept the deal, how were you planning on dealing with Tammi the Nazi?”

“Call Calvert and have him figure it out,” I said. “I was going to give myself time to heal, collate my notes, experiment with my runes. I haven’t really been focusing on them as much as I’d like to.”

“But Sophia doesn’t like that, the victory won’t be hers,” said Lisa, nodding. “I can comfortably say she’ll accept the deal going by what I know about you would ask and the type of person she is.”

I frowned at her words, trying to think about Lisa’s specialisation and her magical knowledge. The one trick I’d seen her do was turning a person’s attention away with a flick of her hand, and maybe making something similar to a connection breaker — all things I could do without trouble. But she seemed to specialise in connections and I worried about all the information she could glean from them.

“If it’s a given we should probably get to planning on our side,” said Trevor.

Eyes turned to me.

I swallowed. “Um…I really don’t know how to approach this,” I said. “This will be my first time fighting another Practitioner. Mostly people have been nice to me and I haven’t fought against that many Others.”

“Ugh, nice for you,” Trevor muttered. “Can’t wait to personally punch a Nazi, metaphorically,” he added. “I’ve been wanting payback since they sent me that Other. Got it a little with the Revenant, but I don’t know if that worked.”

“It hasn’t bounced back so that’s a good sign,” said Lisa.

“Context please,” I said.

“That Revenant we were dealing with in the Lower Bay,” said Trevor. “It was a guy shot by some cops. He and his kid were jogging at night — his son did track and this was training — and a cop thought they robbed a place or some shit like that. But you know how these things are, cops shoot first if you’re black. The dad had to watch as his son was killed. He went berserk and was shot too, except he didn’t die. He got them and started going after the family of the cops who killed his son. Blood for blood.”

“Revenants are anger and retribution,” said Lisa. “They’re beings driven to attack those who wronged them, and when they succeed and still want to live, have to follow the pattern. We decided it would be justice if he was pointed not at the kids of his killers, but at others like them.”

“You turned him on the police?” I said, unsure what to feel.

“We bound him by the Seal of Solomon and gave him a list,” said Lisa. “Cops I know for sure have ties to the Nazis and have red in their past. If it reaches a certain point, it means the Man in Blue will try and deal with it, which means a resource the Nazis don’t have working for them, directly or indirectly.”

I let out a breath. “It’s starting to really hit me how much work Calvert put into all of this,” I said. “You, me and those Traveller guys—”

“And the whole deal with Boston,” Lisa added. At my raised brow she said, “A Practitioner who calls himself Accord just made a bid for Lordship in Boston, just after the head of their Protectorate was caught saying some racist shit on television. Similar tactic to how things played out with the Nazis that I’m thinking they’re working from the same playbook. With things as they are, Boston’s Protectorate won’t be coming in to help the Bay if this becomes an all-out fight.”

“A _lot_ of work,” I said. “You know, hearing all that, I’m worried I’ll be the weak link.”

Lisa let out an incredulous bit of laughter. “You say that after you managed to free an Alabaster and get her on our side,” she said. “All without a lot of help, when you’re still less than a year in as a Practitioner. Give yourself credit, Taylor, you’re _very_ competent at what you do.”

I tried and failed to keep a smile from forming.

Amber appeared. Aisha and Trevor jumped, the former letting out a curse; and Rachel’s dogs looked up, Brutus the only one who stayed calm, my hand scratching the ear of the rightmost head.

“The Sophia girl is here,” Amber said. “She’s here with two others and one Other.”

“Boo!” Aisha said.

“Could you please let them in for me?” I asked them. “I really don’t want to get up.”

_And I want the security of Brutus on my lap, and Lisa and Trevor close._

Amber disappeared and appeared again in front of the door. I heard as they opened it and let Sophia’s group in. It was a moment later that the group stepped into the living room, carrying lumpy backpacks filled with stuff.

Brutus reacted as Ji-eun sauntered into the living room, getting off the couch and starting to growl. The other dogs joined him.

Rachel whistled sharply and the dogs calmed and sat down, their attention turning back to their food and Brutus back to me.

“Welcome,” I said, not getting up. “You’re free to the food and drink.”

“Thanks,” said Sophia, then, “By the authority granted to me by Emma Barnes and Madison Clement. I accept the deal offered by Taylor Hebert. By its terms, she’ll get answer to questions about stuff at Winslow and our treatment of her, and we’ll have to answer honestly and completely; and we will get her attention and aid on the battle between ourselves and Tammi the Nazi, without calling for assistance of Thomas Silas Calvert. Do you so accept?”

I nodded. “I so accept,” I said.

“Good,” she said. “We’ve gotta start to get sorted because I had eyes on me as I was coming here. She knows we’re talking and she’ll attack us soon. Let’s sort this shit out.”

***

“Okay,” I said. “Important thing first. Do you think they’re going to attack tonight, while we’re all at my house? Because if they do, it could put my Dad in danger and I don’t want that to happen.”

I wanted more to say that I’d call Calvert, but I’d made the deal with Sophia already, accepted its terms. Was that why she’d told me that we were being watched _after_ she got me to agree? Because she knew of my concerns and wanted the agreement first?

Sophia, Emma and Madison were on one side of the room, sitting on pillows Amber had been kind enough to get for us. Sophia had Ji-eun on her lap, running her hand through the fox’s fur, her expression unreadable; Emma sat like a lady, mouth pursed and her eyes flashing red as they darted from person to person, sometimes lingering on me; and Madison sat with her head down, doing her best to seem like the smallest thing in the room.

“If my timing’s right,” said Lisa. “He’s on a project connected to the strike that’s been in the wind. I could nudge things, make him spend the night.”

“Would he be safer there?” I asked. “The strike is an attack on the Nazi, with our karma his office or wherever he is might get attacked.”

“Attacking the innocent is hard to do in the first place,” said Lisa, “and your Dad might be safer than us with what he’s connected to. Trust me, he’ll be safe, relatively speaking, if he stays the night.”

I let out a sigh. “Okay, do it.”

Lisa reached for her backpack and pulled a pen and sketchpad. She began to draw a Celtic knot, then wrapped a circle around the entire thing leaving spaces in the cardinal directions to fit in the intertwined diamonds of connection; instead of blockers like I would have down she drew out a very long ‘s’ shapes in the inter-cardinal positions. She turned the page to the side and started to write words along the lines in cursive.

“Bring me something from your Dad,” she said. “Hair if you have any. I’d like yours too. Aisha, you should know most of the basics tell me what I’m doing.”

I started to get up.

“I know where some hairs are,” said Amber. They didn’t sit like the others, instead they moved around, almost pacing, paying attention to the people. “I’ve been collecting them so you don’t have to worry about it if a bad Other got into the house.”

_I didn’t even think about that sort of threat._

“Thank you, Amber,” I said. They left, going upstairs.

“Okay,” said Aisha. “I know this. The Celtic knot is the sign for family, you’re upping how the diagram is pointed without making it complicated with writing stuff down. The diamonds, two of them together are a sign for connection, but with lines added onto them you can change what they mean. The ‘s’ is…is like a warding ‘T’ but the curves mean that it’s not a stop, more of a _nudge_ towards turning away. And the stuff you wrote, I can’t read it, but it’s for…giving the spirit a signal of what to do things. They’re grateful for that kind of stuff.”

“That’s…very good,” Lisa said.

“You sound surprised,” Aisha muttered, but to look at her she seemed proud of herself.

“You’re a bad student,” Trevor said, shrugging. Rachel chuckled.

“Shut up,” said Aisha. “Sure learned _this_ though.”

“That’s some impressive magic,” Emma said, sweetly. “I suddenly get why Taylor called all of you to help her.”

“Everything’s impressive when you don’t know a lot,” Lisa said smoothly.

Emma frowned, her eyes moving to me as they set in a scowl.

I turned away from her, focusing on Amber as they came down the stairs holding out two strands of hair. They gave the strands over to Lisa who twisted them together, curled them into a ball and placed them on the centre of the knot.

Lisa pulled out her phone. “Hey,” she said. “Can you have Danny Hebert stay the night? We’re expecting trouble…okay.” She put her phone down. “Expect a call, Taylor.”

A minute later the call came. “Dad?”

 _“Hey, Taylor,”_ he said. _“How are you doing?”_

“Okay,” I said. “I have some friends over and we’re dealing with a project.”

 _“Something for school?”_ he said.

“It has to do with school, yeah,” I said.

Dad laughed lightly. _“Sounds like you’re just have a girl’s night and making it seem like homework,”_ he said. I didn’t fill anything in. _“It’s good that you have friends. I’m really glad for you.”_

My eyes found Lisa and then Trevor, the former was a person I knew best, but I still counted Trevor as a friend.

“Yeah,” I said.

 _“Listen,”_ he said, _“my boss, Thomas Calvert, he’s gotten some free time and heard about what we’re trying to do in organising the strike. He seems interested. I think I might have to stay the night, do my best to get him to make a pledge for the strike fund just in case that’s needed. I’m sorry to spring this on you.”_

“It’s okay,” I said. “My friends are prepared to spend the night if it’s needed.”

 _“That’s a relief,”_ he said. _“Fingers crossed that things work out tonight and we come out with something actionable.”_

“Good luck,” I said and I dropped the line.

“And that’s about it,” said Lisa. “I think the diagram should hold for a night if no one messes with it. We just have to put it somewhere safe so it doesn’t get disturbed.”

“I can do it,” said Amber. “I know the safest place in the house to keep things.”

Lisa looked at me for permission and I nodded. “You’ll have to be careful,” she said.

Amber went to the page and took it delicately, they moved so gracefully that the page didn’t even flutter.

“Okay,” I said. “We can start. Tammi the Nazi, what can we expect?”

Lisa grinned. “This is my playhouse,” she said. “All the info I’ve gathered on the Nazis will make approaching them a little easier.”

“Go ahead,” I said.

“Tammi isn’t from the Bay,” she started. “Her and her family were originally from the Harren Clan, which is a cult-like family of Nazis with Practitioners and Aware mixed into them. Tammi’s parents got out of the Harren Clan, but it must have grated to pretend like she wasn’t a Nazi because she went running back as she could. They sent her here after she was Awakened.”

“Some people,” Trevor muttered, shaking his head. “She went running back?”

“Metaphorically speaking,” said Lisa. “Anyway, from what I’ve been able to tell she’s not too talented and therefore no one’s taken her under their wing. She has echoes, but all of them are largely run of the mill and nothing special. The Nazis have a great network, with patron gods they tap into, but she doesn’t have access to them and that means something.”

“I have a lot of salt,” I said. “Dad bought some for me in bulk.”

“We might need that,” said Lisa. “But it’s less her that I’m worried about, and the friends she could bring. Othala, their alchemist, was also from the Harren Clan and so was Viktor, Othala’s partner. Everything I’ve seen about Viktor tells me he’ll both be angry and want to be close to the only person who’s similar to him. Both him and Tammi are from the lower rung of the Harren Clan, with him being even lower because he’s an outsider.”

“Nazi politics,” Aisha muttered. “Yay.”

“What does Viktor specialise in?” I asked.

“Theft spirits,” said Lisa. “Sometimes they take objects, other times they mess with connections in ways I wish I could, but most of the time they steal skills and give them to Viktor. I don’t have a full list, but he’s stolen from a lot of people since his start in the early days, taking people with talent and bringing them low.”

“People that aren’t white?” Trevor asked.

“People that aren’t cis, straight, white and Christian,” she said. “Sometimes women he doesn’t like.”

“That’s really fucked up,” he said.

“And we’re going to have to fight him?” Madison said, her voice shaking. “He’s going to—”

 _“Stop,”_ Sophia ordered and Madison jumped. “Don’t say anything or you might screw yourself with those words.”

“Oh,” Madison said. She swallowed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Be better,” Sophia muttered.

Madison blushed, her head bowed.

“Oh, so you’re a bitch people that aren’t my brother,” Aisha said. “Nice.” 

“Is it?” Sophia challenged. “Nice?”

“Yeah it fucking is,” said Aisha, though she didn’t sound confident.

“Let’s not gainsay each other,” said Lisa. “We might be facing Nazis, and most of us have used a lot of power over the last week. If we piss each other off and decide to break up as a team, that’ll screw us over. Eyes on our true enemy.”

“So Tammi’s with Viktor,” said Rachel. “There are eight of us. We could take them.”

“Maybe,” said Lisa. “Or maybe they’re going to be a little smart and use the fact that we’re here to get more people. If Tammi was watching the house, she’ll know the Undersiders are here. It’s already known that we work for Calvert, they could think that hitting us hurts him, which could mean they’ll devote more forces. Hookwolf and Cricket, I’m thinking, because they hate our guts, they’re both blunt objects and they’re angry because Stormtiger’s dead.”

“It’s starting to feel like you guys might have bit off more than you can chew,” Aisha said.

“We took care of Tammi twice,” said Sophia. “We handled it. If the rest of you want to fuck off, then go, but we’re fighting this to win.”

“We have to,” I said. “So let’s put our cards on the table, nothing held back, so we can come out of this with hopefully a last victory.”


	27. Chapter 27

“Is it fucked up that I’m excited by this?” Aisha said. We’d moved things around: The television was in the kitchen and we’d cleared some floor space; we had pens and paper out and we’d put our stuff in the middle of the floor.

One of the things Lisa had done was draw three circles on some paper — Tammi, Sophia and Taylor written in each; connecting them were lines whose pattern seemed reminiscent of a Celtic knot. Sophia and I had helped in powering that: I’d offered some of my ink and she’d dabbed a bit of blood.

Lisa’s circle had been the first attack on our part, slow and subtle but one we were banking on to grease the wheel. I’d given her the blood I’d gotten from Carlos — blood that had properties of mania within them. Any time she tapped into the connections between either me and her, or Sophia and her, a little of the blood’s properties would be transferred to make her more impulsive.

“Nah, I get it,” said Trevor. He, Aisha and Madison were in one group, with Trevor giving them the breakdown on how to make a spell card that would work offensively. They had access to ink with the last of my Alabaster blood, though Trevor was using blood he’d gotten from the Beastling Other before its binding terms had concluded.

Madison was being taught the basics of creating diagrams by a non-Sophia source, while she was teaching them runes she’d picked up from Sophia — stone and metal runes, as well as those that governed positive and negative polarisation in magnetism.

“This sort of stuff is always exciting,” Trevor continued.

“But we _could_ die,” said Madison.

Aisha snorted. “You have no idea how much I almost die in this shit of a place,” she muttered. “At least like this I can go out fighting.”

“I don’t like you saying that,” Lisa said, carefully feeding blood into a syringe. She worked carefully, doing her best not to get blood on the locks of hair tied around her fingers. The hairs belonged to Sophia and me, with strict rules on how they could be used; through the hair she’d be able to tap into our string of connections and perceive them better.

 _I’ll be left near square one after this is done,_ I thought as I looked at all the forms of power I’d given out.

It hurt to see. I’d gone through a lot of shit to get most of those. Sure, getting the blood and teeth hadn’t been through a fight, but I’d had to cut them out of a head and that had taken a _lot_ out of me.

But if we won, this would be a third victory and it would be more meaningful. I had to put all my cards on the table.

Sophia, Emma and Rachel were filling canisters with salt, some of it falling onto the ground in the process. Because of the salt, Amber had chosen to stay as far away as possible from us; they were now on the second floor, watching the windows in case we were being watch or if they’d try to pull a siege on the house.

The table had been cleared, our scraps of food not fed to the dogs but in paper bags in each of our backpacks.

I sat with my cloak and chain on, the Abusive Man’s belt wound around my waist, stick in hand, my flashlight in its holster and the umbilical cord wrapped around my right hand.

“Grue would want to kill me if he found out I did that to you,” she continued.

We’d made our plans, rough though they were, and now we were getting things together before we were off. There’d already been too much work done tonight and we _needed_ for things to resolve themselves now. So Lisa had nudged, infecting connections in subtle ways so that Tammi would be more prone to being antsy — something she’d used the blood from Carlos to fuel.

As the last of the sun’s red glow disappear and darkness took a more secure footing people started to work faster, completing their diagrams and storing our salt supplies in backpacks.

The night would involve a lot of moving around and I was psyching myself up for what would be another tiring night.

“Okay,” said Lisa, her eyes flashed an almost purple pink as she looked around. “There shouldn’t be a lot of people outside.”

 _And so we start,_ I thought letting out a shaky breath and pushing myself to my feet.

As a group we went out through the front. Rachel barked orders in a language I couldn’t understand though it sounded familiar, smoke spilling out of her mouth in the process and starting to curl around the dogs with each word. Brutus, Judas and Angelica started to bulge and grow as they took in the smoke, with skin splitting and muscle, fur and bone spilling out to form dogs as large as cars.

Brutus was more intimidating at the end of the process, as large as a small car, with heads that had grown larger and teeth that were so long they protruded out of his mouth. The other dogs weren’t slouches as well, with Angelica having more of a bony exterior than Judas whose had twisted muscle that looked red and angry.

There were eight of us and three dogs we started to get onto them: Lisa was on Judas with Emma and Aisha; I was on Brutus with Rachel and Madison; and Trevor rode Angelica with Sophia.

Rachel whistled and Brutus started at a loping run, then started to move faster and faster still until my hair fluttered in the wind. At either side of us Judas and Angelica kept pace, the others hanging on for dear life as the dogs started to run as fast as cars, tearing through largely empty streets towards the Docks, vaguely in the direction of the Undersiders’ base.

As things went, being on the move worked to our advantage. Rachel’s dogs were fast and strong, but if they had to fight at my house they would have trouble with the cramped space, not to mention that they were likely to _destroy_ my house in the process. The protections I’d put up would have helped — the Nazis would have had to leverage a lot of power to break through — but power of that type usually meant desolation and I didn’t want my house ruined.

As dangerous as things were, this was better in the grand scheme of things. We were doing our best to set the terms of the coming battle.

A glint of light caught my eye as we got into the South End — a cat whose eyes glowed in the dark. I _looked_ with the Sight and saw beyond, there was a web and I focused on it, moving along it to see what was on the other side. Tammi in a complicated diagram, smaller circles set between the borders of the largest structure containing echoes — most of which had large or exaggerated eyes — connected together by lines and runes.

I turned my head and saw beyond the circle. Hookwolf with a body of knifes, hooks and needles, the sound of metal against metal filling the air as he paced around the circle; Cricket, settled on the rafters above, looking down onto the scene; an unassuming man I’d seen before at the council meeting, likely to be Viktor; Theo, the son of Max Anders; and the woman who’d sat behind the Nazis, Kayden Anders.

Tammi sat in a small circle within a much larger circle, different diagrams wrapped in half circles arrayed around her. She touched one and it flared. My vision _shuddered_ and one of the echoes around Tammi turned to look at me. It stepped out of its circle, flickered then disappeared.

 **“Taylor,”** I heard and the words snapped me back into reality. It was Lisa’s voice and she seemed a little distracted. “What’s going on? There’s something attached to us. I can feel it.”

I tried to feel it out and couldn’t.

“Tammi did something,” I said. “I think it might have been a trap. And there’s two more people in their group. Kayden, I think her name is, and Theo Anders.”

“Should have guessed,” Lisa muttered, though she didn’t sound too upset. “The thing you saw, was it an echo?”

“I think so,” I said. “A man with cone-like eyes.”

She nodded. “Let the connection linger. We’ll see what echo she sent, then break the connection.”

I nodded. 

We got deeper into the Docks, running between yellowed streetlights, casting long shadows as we approached and moved past. One of those shadows got darker and a man stepped out, the same one I’d seen in Tammi’s circle: tall and fat, with a receding hairline and a sweat-stained shirt; his eyes were cones, protruding out from his eyes; and in his hands he held a film camera.

As we approached I could hear his laboured breathing.

Lisa snapped her fingers and pointed. Rachel whistled and the sound was louder. The dogs changed direction, away from the man who’d began to pull up his camera to take a picture, and through a side street.

At the same time I squeezed the umbilical cord and drew a line on Brutus’ back, severing the connection between me and the echo; for a second I saw the flailing thread, but as we disappeared from sight so did the errant connection.

We had to make this a chase, make it hard for them to pin us in one place, which would mean they would have to send out their more mobile players to coral us. We were also banking on Hookwolf’s nature, as well as his anger. For the victory to be hers, Tammi would be the one giving the orders, giving an overview of the plan, but if she lost too many times, Hookwolf would go rogue and that would work well for us.

“We’re almost there,” said Lisa, knowing that Tammi was keeping an eye on us, that she could hear what we were saying.

“I’m looking back!” I said. “Before we get to protection.”

We weren’t going to protection but the words were leading. I spotted a mural on the wall, excellently done and not yet tarnished. It was of two women embracing, their hair flowing around them to shield their modesty. One of them opened her eyes and looked at me, and through her I looked back onto Tammi, I _listened_ to the words.

“You’re being watched,” said Kayden, a woman of average height and appearance, standing next to a chubby Theo who wore rough metal gauntlets. “Do you want my help?”

“Quiet!” Tammi said, then she took a breath. “Sorry.” She touched a rune and it flared. She smiled as my vision shuddered, more violently this time, and two of her echoes disappeared. The man again and this time a girl, black, wearing a burlap bag and with too large, red lips stretched in a rictus smile. “Blind her!”

I pulled back but it was already too late. Kayden flicked her fingers and _flared_ in a blinding white light. A screamed tore through me as heat hit my eyes. I reared back, almost falling before a hand grabbed my coat and pulled me back. It would be Madison, who’d chosen to sit in the middle because she’d been terrified of falling over.

Just like the Alabaster had blinded me with my own light except this was worse, filled with warmth and small needles that pierced my eyes.

“Fuck,” I heard muttered, Lisa again. “Keeping moving.”

“Did she send something?” Sophia asked to my left

My eyes felt hot and tears flowed freely. I did my best to blink but it wasn’t working, only making things worse. The light had a mind of its own, getting brighter even though my eyes were closed, searing itself into me and making it hard to think.

“Hebert!” said Sophia. “Did they— _Fuck_ her.”

“Sophia, don’t take the bait!” Lisa screamed. I heard the rush of wind as Sophia jumped off her mount, then a scream as Ji-eun pulled the attention of whatever Sophia was after. “Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._ Turn around, we’ll help her bind her.”

Rachel whistled and Brutus started to skid to a stop. I hugged Madison, which helped me not be thrown off as the dog twisted around.

“Off!” Rachel barked. I heard Madison squeak and felt her jump. She shifted and pulled me with her, down the large dog and onto the ground. I landed too hard which had my body _flaring_ with pain.

“Emma,” said Lisa. “Start drawing a connection breaker with Taylor at its centre. Aisha, Trevor, we’re going to need blood to bind that thing. Start smearing it in a circle.”

“Fuck her so much,” Aisha muttered, while Trevor said something in Spanish I couldn’t understand, though I knew enough to know he was swearing up a storm.

“Rachel,” Lisa continued. “It’s a Bugge, immaterial. We’re going to need something immaterial against it.”

The sound of an egg cracking reverberated, then heavy footfalls before something large started to growl. It ran, then a cacophony of sounds followed: a scream intermingled with deep growls and deranged laughter. There was a harsh click — the sound of a camera — and I heard a yelp before another set of barks, grunts, growls and scrapes.

Ji-eun screamed in the middle of it all.

_Hurry up with the connection breaker. I want to see._

I closed my eyes and kept blinking, trying to ward away the light but it still wasn’t working.

“Okay,” said Lisa, absently. “Now—salt!”

Madison screamed and I heard as she stepped back. I pulled out my belt and snapped it. “Protect us against the threat!” I said and _hoped_ that it worked.

“It’s working,” said Lisa. “But make sure it’s away from Rachel like this. Okay, now another circle, draw light runes with triangles that point inward.”

I could only stand as there was more activity around me — deep shudders, sometimes a yelp or a scream, a thud and the rolling sound of falling bricks — all while blind and trusting the people around me to protect me.

The light started to recede, slowly at first, showing me only humanoid, blurry shapes, but as time past it began to clear.

We were in a circle surrounded by salt, the dogs guarded the perimeter, watching a Rachel who was hollowed out, a well-worn hallow inside of her body. Trevor and Aisha were working on a circle of blood, leaving gaps open so they could let something in. Beyond them, Sophia, Ji-eun and the greater dog spirit were fighting against a girl in minstrel dress and movement. She fought much like a dancer but there was no grace to her, her motions were jerky and exaggerated, like a puppet on strings, being pulled this way and that to avoid its attackers.

“Sophia,” said Lisa. “Come add to this.”

Sophia didn’t leave the fight. She held a knife and at times she jumped into the fray, but unlike Ji-eun and the dog, she passed _through_ the Bugge instead being able to attack it. She dashed salt but the Bugge didn’t so much as react to it. There must have been another play, because I could see that Sophia’s blade was stained with blood.

“What you’re doing is not working!” Lisa said.

“I’ve got blood on the knife!” Sophia hollered. “It’s not doing damage.”

“And we’re doing the same thing,” Trevor said. He stood, his eyes wide. “This isn’t going to work. Fuck. This isn’t going to work.”

“Why?” Lisa asked. She had a canister filled with salt and she dashed it just as the photographer appeared — different now, much leaner and the cast of his face reminding me of the Abusive Man. The salt passed through, he flickered but didn’t disappear. He pulled up his camera.

Rachel whistled and Angelica pounced, paws covered with salt slamming into the echo to make it disappear.

“Because I get what you’re going for and this isn’t _us,”_ said Trevor said. “Minstrels and their shit. They might be about us, but they’re not us. It’s shit white people came up with to define us, pushing so hard it’s what some people believe we are. But…we weren’t rooted at the centre of it, at least not the real us. It’s an idea _by_ white people _for_ white people.”

Lisa nodded. “Emma, Madison and Rachel,” she said. “Blood.”

“Why not you?” Emma asked, she sounded angrier than scared which seemed strange. But I couldn’t focus on her. “Why not Taylor?”

“Because I’m queer and Taylor’s…” Lisa stopped. “Just _do_ it and stop fucking around.” She reached at her side and pulled out a revolver and she popped out the cylinder. “Smear it on this,” she said as she got a bullet out.

“Why didn’t _we_ just do that,” Aisha said. “We had to smear blood on the ground. I could get tetanus because of that shit.”

“Quiet please,” Lisa said. 

Rachel had her own knife and she cut her hand with a grunt, squeezed it, then clenched until there was enough blood. She rolled the pulled over the blood. Emma did the same with a little cry, while Madison shook her head, afraid.

“Can’t we just force her?” said Aisha.

“The blood must be freely given,” Lisa muttered. “Bullet.” She took it. “Let’s hope this works.”

Bullet in the chamber and both hands holding the gun, she pointed and pulled the hammer back. Sophia and Ji-eun stepped back and away, and after a sharp whistle, so did the dog spirit. The crack was loud and harsh, rolling out, hitting neighbouring buildings and returning to us; the bullet met its mark, catching the girl in her chest. She stumbled back and hit the ground.

“Is she dead?” Madison asked.

“It’s an idea,” said Lisa. “It doesn’t die in the traditional sense. So long as there’s people who give it strength, it’ll exist.”

Sophia rushed forward and pulled some chalk out of her cloak. She began to draw a circle around the fallen girl.

“You’re bound,” she said. The girl had already started to move, limbs shooting in every direction so she pushed herself up, her limbs bent in odd ways to facilitate the motion.

She got to her feet but she couldn’t stand still, she kept moving, dancing in that jerky way of hers.

“We’re still being watched,” Lisa said and she motioned. There was a rat which seemed transfixed by everything, its eyes glowing in the dark.

I pulled my flashlight free.

“Hey rat,” I said. It turned in my direction, surprised. “Fuck you.”

The flashlight flicked on and light flooded out.

I didn’t see the reaction or hear her scream. But I felt a vindictive sense of glee knowing I’d hurt her the same way she’d hurt me.

***

My play to blind Tammi must have worked because as I looked out, trying to see any signs of watching eyes, there was nothing. But there wasn’t been a lot of time to relish the victory because there was a lot of work to be done.

Aisha was busy at working scuffing the blood they’d painted on the ground with salt. Rachel and her dogs walked in a large circle around the dog spirit, which seemed to be riled up, its hackles raised and teeth bared. It pounced at times but one of the dogs stepped in its way, keeping it from getting out of the circle. When this happened — in sync — Rachel and her dogs would move in the opposite direction — clockwise then counter-clockwise, then reversed again in a hypnotic display. Trevor had on his rollerblades, and he glided in a wide circle around Rachel, keeping an eye out for Tammi’s echo which had swallowed up the Abusive Man.

“What’s going on with them?” Madison asked, her voice small and shoulders hunched.

She and I were the only ones not doing anything. Sophia was hurt and Emma now bound the cuts with bandages; Ji-eun watched our surroundings for any wandering connections; and Lisa stood in front of me, permanent marker in hand, sliding over my skin to counter the light Kayden had used to blind me.

“The Mangy Bitch gets restless after big fights,” Lisa said. “Rachel’s trying to calm her down. I don’t think we’ll be able to let her out again or she might cause damage.”

“She’s a Host, right?” Madison asked. “I did some reading and that’s one of the directions a Practitioner can choose to specialise in. Give spirits a place to rest inside of them for some of their power.”

Lisa nodded, her mouth set in a frown. “I’m not really in the mood to give out free lessons,” she said, “especially when you’re one of the people that were bitchy to my girl, Taylor. So if you want to work off that nervous energy, maybe do it with your own people.”

Madison looked hurt by the words; with shoulders slumped, she went to Emma and Sophia.

“That was a bit mean,” I said.

“Don’t move too much,” she said, chiding. “And don’t fool yourself, girl, you’re loving it.”

I wanted to say no, that I didn’t appreciate it, but I was worried that might be a lie. Instead I moved my eyes as much as they could, still scanning for anything that might be watching eyes.

“What’s Kayden’s deal?” I asked.

“She works with glamour forged beings,” she said.

“Faeries?”

Lisa barked out a laugh. “She wishes. No, she doesn’t have the clout for that sort of thing. Faerie work with glamour, supposedly their world is built with that stuff. They use it to make their buildings, their clothes and all sorts of stuff. It isn’t out of the question to find some glamour dust if a Practitioner walks through their lands, enough that they might be able to make more or spend it in an image.”

“And that’s what she did?”

Lisa shook her head. “She was given something made in glamour. Let’s call it a sprite. Its glamour isn’t as wide as what the Fae’s glamour might be able to do, it’s narrow and directed towards light and light-made things. But thankfully it still has the weaknesses of all glamour.”

I thought back to all I’d learned. “Crude and direct attacks.”

Lisa smiled. “It’s amazing sometimes how quickly you’ve picked this stuff up,” she said. I glanced at Emma because the web between me and her was bright with dark emotions. “What I’m doing should work, but there’s no telling for how long. If Grue were here he’d be a better counter for Kayden. He works in more solid darkness, but—No,” Lisa said. “Not yet. Being dramatic is something the spirits like.”

Aisha’s cackle was enough to tell me that there was something else going on.

“And…done,” she said. “Don’t sweat too much or those lines are going to run.”

“I’m not sure that’s in my control,” I said.

She chuckled.

Using my stick I found my feet. There hadn’t been a lot of movement but I already felt wobbly, hurts radiating through my body. A breath left me. This had to end soon or I’d keel over from the pain.

“What happened to the Bugge?” I asked.

“I decided to send it in another direction,” Sophia said. “Tammi might be expecting it and have protections set up. E88 are one entity, they work for Anders so it can be argued that all of this they’re doing for him. He’s busy with shit around his business and maybe he won’t have protections prepared for this.”

“I don’t think that’s as simple as you think it is,” Lisa said.

Sophia shrugged. “It’s what I did. No turning back now.”

“That can be argued, but we can go with it,” she said.

Aisha finished clearing the blood, messing it enough that it wouldn’t be usable and the Mangy Bitch calmed enough that Rachel walked into the circle. There was another crack and she opened again; the Mangy Bitch shuffled forward and climbed into its hole, nestling within.

Trevor continued to glide, moving close without ever stopping.

“We can go,” Rachel said as she neared, Brutus, Judas and Angelica following close behind her, short, bony tails wagging.

“If they’re not watching, how are they going to see where we’re running?” I asked. “How are we going to know if our plan worked?”

“We’ll just have to look,” Sophia said. “Stick it to them even more.”

“Okay,” said Lisa. “But I’m not going to stick my neck out that far. My eyes are pretty useful and I can’t have them blinded. Taylor, who has the second-best eyes won’t do it because the third time’s the charm and I don’t want to test our luck.”

“I’ll do it,” said Emma.

“You will?” I said.

She snorted and stood taller. “If you can do it, why can’t I?” she said. “My Sight is very good at taking people in and seeing where their connections are weak.”

Lisa shrugged. “If you think you can do it, then go ahead,” she said. She pulled out a book from her backpack, then a piece of paper within. It was the one that had the diagram connection Sophia, Tammi and me. “I’ve been spending a _lot_ of power over the past few days and I can’t give you anything to guide you. You’ll have to use the paper, which will burn up, which means we lose the curse. Is the risk worth it?”

“What do we have if we don’t look back?” I asked.

“We know that Tammi’s still focusing on us, and from what you described she’s put a lot of resources on this. Right now they think we’re going to safety, they’ll have to chase. They _will_ have a way to track us and we can prepare the ground for an attack.”

“Our plan wasn’t exactly to stay in one place,” said Trevor as he breezed through. “That’s not how the Undersiders fight. I don’t think we should reinvent the wheel right now.”

“Then what? Run and hope they don’t give up?” Lisa asked. “That’ll surprise us more than it will them.”

Sophia stepped forward, snatched the paper from Lisa’s hand and handed it over to Emma. Ji-eun, who’d been on the ground, leapt onto Emma’s shoulder, wrapped her tails around Emma like a scarf, then nuzzled her snout near her ears.

I got the sense she was speaking but I couldn’t hear the words.

Emma’s eyes flashed red, the paper in her hand glowed and a web flared, then got brighter, _too_ bright.

“Something’s happening!” I shouted as Lisa said, “Cut it!”

I swung my stick and it slid through the web, whatever power it had was material whereas connections were immaterial — I had been hoping it would work. Aisha had acted too, swiping a hand through the web; light flared and sparks flew on impact. She hissed and stepped back, her hand cradled in the other. The sparks took into the air and started to take shape.

Just as we’d used connections as vectors of attack, Tammi and her people had done the same, and now there were six people made out of light in our midsts. They were bright, casting out beams of light that blinded all the others save Sophia, Ji-eun and me.

Sophia acted first, her knife finding her hand as she darted towards one of the figures; she swiped and the light sprite danced aside, grabbing her arm with one hand, twirling and throwing her to the ground. The other sprites moved: two towards Emma before they were distracted by a screaming Ji-eun; two towards Aisha; and the last in my direction.

I swung my stick and missed as the figure bowed, spun to my left then threw out their hand to push me aside. My feet flared with pain as I stumbled to the side; before I could catch my feet a leg tripped me. I couldn’t think as I hit the ground, all my injuries making themselves known.

The others weren’t doing too well either. Aisha had been pushed towards Judas and the dog had batted her to the side; Emma and Madison were on the ground, the former’s eyes leaking light and the latter dabbing at them with her jacket; Lisa, one hand covering her eyes, stepped back, her gun raised; Rachel had used Angelica as a massive shield; Trevor skated further back and away; and Sophia had regained her feet and was lurking in patches of darkness.

Four threats in our midst, while the other two chased after Ji-eun, flickering at times to appear in the areas with the most light, effectively cutting her off.

“Bind the light!” Trevor shouted, throwing out spell cards. “Bind the light! Bind the light!”

“Aisha!” Lisa shouted. “Now!” She pointed her gun and shot, the sound ringing out.

One of the sprites darted in her direction, forcing her to move further back. It leapt like a ballerina, skipping to appear behind her in a patch of light. Lisa whipped around, shot and missed. The thing drew close and smacked the gun from her hand.

Around us light dimmed. It took me a second to connect what was going on. Trevor, the cards he’d thrown had found themselves in places where light reflected. There was now less room for the sprites to skip ahead.

“Spirits, guide these to their marks!” Trevor shouted and he threw a bunch of papers into the air. The sprites moved with more vigour, dancing out of the way, sometimes waving their hands and redirecting the paper.

The first of the papers touched Judas and it flared. There was a pulse and wind burst out, which activated the others — wind, water and fire bloomed.

The effect didn’t help us at all. Water found its way to me and it washed away some of the ink around my eyes — the sprites became harsher to look at; fire bloomed and the bright light gave the sprites more weight; wind ripped out and it sent Sophia flying away. The only people who weren’t hit were Lisa and Aisha, both waving their hands so the paper changed direction again, hitting nothing as the sprites dodged.

The fight reminded me of something, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, too addled with pain and drenched in freezing water.

Rachel barked a word, veins visible on her neck and spittle flying out. Judas darted forward and swiped a paw, the sprite nearest to him wove under the attack. Rachel said another word — stepping away from a sprite that danced her way — and Judas threw his head to the side, teeth bared. He missed and the sprite waved its hand at his eye and blinded him. Judas reared back while Angelica pounced forward.

The sprite danced aside.

 _Gotta help,_ I thought and I pushed through the pain to think. 

My hand found my flashlight and I flicked it on as Angelica pounced. The sprite — spinning to dodge — caught the light and grew, getting bigger and weightier, then shattered as Angelica slammed into it.

A sprite that had been going after Rachel spun in a pirouette, coming towards me. I dropped the flashlight and raised my stick. It extended a foot and kicked my hand, wrenching the stick from my grasp.

As pain tore through my hand things clicked into place.

“Everyone stop fighting!” I said. “Stop doing things!”

I stilled and people followed suit, all coming to stops. Rachel whistled sharply, barked a word and the dogs sat. Trevor was the only one who didn’t stop, he continued to drift.

The sprites continued to move around us, dancers who were deft on their feet, seemingly moving at random save that there was a coordination between them, one’s motion directing my eye towards another and back again. They didn’t attack, only danced, moving so they were closer to Trevor who expertly wound around them without putting up a fight. The sprites that had cornered Ji-eun moved away as Trevor neared, chasing after him in elegant leaps and jumping twirls.

“Victoria did a thing,” I explained, “when she was fighting some goblins. She used the goblin’s attack as justification to hit it back. I think it might be the same thing here, but even then, they’re not hitting us that hard.”

“Says _you,”_ Aisha muttered. She was on the ground, holding one of her arms close to her side. One of the sprites danced passed her and I saw that her expression was twisted in pain, her face was paler and her hair seemed thinner. “Feels like they hit hard.”

“The dogs hit you hard, not them,” I said.

“What about Emma?” Madison asked.

Trevor leapt, used the wall to move, and skipped over two of the sprites. He landed with a clack and pushed himself faster, moving in a circular arc while trying to avoid a sprite that spun his way.

“She spied on them,” Lisa said, “and they blinded her. That’s justified by the rules of our world.”

“How do we kill them?” Rachel asked, frustrated. Her eyes flashed and they looked yellowed, inhuman.

“How smart are they?” I asked.

“Can’t be sure,” said Lisa. “If I knew which court they were from, then I might make a guess, but Faerie aren’t a thing specialise in.”

“Okay,” I said. “I might have a plan, but Rachel, it might put your dogs in danger.”

“They can take a punch,” she said, all confidence.

“Trevor, towards Rachel and the dogs,” I said. “Have them attack. Madison, do you still have your fire cards?”

“Ye—yes,” she said.

“Throw them. Lights make them bigger and easier to hit. Lisa and Aisha, can you move the cards so they hit them instead of us?”

“No,” said Aisha. “My head aches. I’ve used too much of my Self.”

“Why did you use your _Self?”_ Lisa asked.

“Because there were fucking cards coming for me and I didn’t want to get fucking hit,” she said.

“Lisa?” I said.

“I’ve got some reserves,” she said.

“Trevor, when you have space, tag them too.”

“Got it,” he said as he jumped over a leg and landed with a clack.

He pushed forward and went towards Rachel. She whistled and the dogs bounded towards the sprites. There was a flurry of activity, light shifting and hitting my eyes, forcing people to turn their heads and focus elsewhere. The dogs barked, growled and yelped; heavy footsteps reverberated as they moved around, trying and failing to attack.

Madison threw paper into the air. Connections flared and in a rush the papers flew towards the sprites. They started to dance out of the way, waving their hands to either cut or redirect connections. They stopped their attacks on the dogs and started towards Madison.

The papers around us detonated. Wind, water and fire, with the light from the fire making the sprites bigger.

Madison screamed and got to her feet, scrambling back to get distanced. Using light reflected from the water, a sprite appeared behind her, leg extended to trip her. She fell, arms going out to catch herself. The sprite bumped her with its hips and Madison landed hard on one arm, it bent and she screamed, hitting the ground _hard._

Ji-eun screamed and they stopped, turned towards her and danced my way to get to her. Sophia appeared in the darkness, her knife coming forward for another attack. Her target danced out of the way, putting Sophia in the perfect place for a paw to swipe at her. On a dime, Sophia stopped, her cloak fluttering and she was blown to the side; she landed in a roll and came up, quickly pushing herself off and gliding on the air. 

Rachel whistled and the dogs jumped over us going towards the much bigger sprites, their dancing having changed to match. No longer delicate, but harsher, incorporating stomps, punches and thrusts into the routine.

Ji-eun moved through the sprites, finding darkness slithering through, going towards the dogs. The sprites followed, getting brighter to blind the dogs. Brutus though, had three heads and one of them must have been able to see. He swiped, caught one of the sprites and dashed it to pieces.

Four more. They had moved past Brutus and were trying to do the same with Angelica and Judas.

Hand still aching, I grabbed my flashlight and flicked it on. Light shot out, blindingly bright. The sprites drank, getting bigger and brighter, harder to look at. The dogs pounced and managed to catch two. Ji-eun screamed and the remaining sprouts leapt towards her. Sophia appeared in their way and slashed with her knife; her hand was caught and she was twisted, with her other hand Sophia flicked and threw a pebble.

The sprite was dashed, leaving only one.

Trevor pushed himself forward and threw a brick, it rocketed out of his hand and hit the sprite’s arm. The thing shattered, letting darkness reign around us.

“Fuck yes!” Trevor said as he continued to drift.

A rending scream cut through the air, the dogs yelped and dropped low, trying to cover their ears with their paws. The sound was loud and far reaching, less about hurting us than about making our location known.

In the air was a giant bird with white-tipped wings, circling in a wide loop.

“No!” Trevor shouted before the giant bird in the sky _swooped._


	28. Chapter 28

In a smooth motion, Trevor pulled off his backpack, reached in and pulled out a paper bag with burger scraps; with a grunt he threw it into the air, bending down as Cricket changed direction, her claws almost raking his arm as they caught the paper bag and she took off into the air again.

Trevor giggled maniacally, moving without stop through our injured members.

“We’ve to get out of the open,” said Sophia.

“The Undersiders don’t—”

“Shut up,” Sophia ordered and Trevor did, his expression of surprise. “We’re getting out of the open.” She, Trevor and Rachel could still walk. Lisa found her feet easily but she seemed like she’d hurt her hand. “We have to find cover so she isn’t at an advantage.”

“Hookwolf will be coming,” said Lisa, her voice strained. “It’s working.”

 _“Move!”_ Sophia ordered as she rushed towards Emma and Madison. The latter seemed dazed, face caked with dirt and tear lines visible in the glow from her friend’s glowing, teary eyes.

I ignored them and helped myself to my feet. My whole body _ached,_ my feet burning fierce every time I shifted or put too much weight on one foot. Lisa was close to Aisha who seemed to struggle getting to her feet. Trevor was up ahead, ever moving.

“There’s a door!” he said, drifting past, angling to turn and coming back.

Rachel raced ahead, the dogs following after her. She whistled while she pointed, and Angelica charged forward and crashed through the door. Rachel whistle and pointed in two different places; Brutus and Judas went and stood at attention.

Slowly we moved forward towards the door, the strongest amongst us guarding against the flying threat, their packets of food ready.

Cricket had once been human, a pit fighter, and like Hookwolf and Stormtiger, she’d infused herself with the essence of an Other. For Stormtiger it had been an air elemental, drinking in enough of its essence he effectively had powers; Hookwolf had drank a cocktail, one that had included wolf blood, troll sweat, and a whole heap of goblin essence that had turned him into what he was; and Cricket had harpy blood coursing through her.

Just as they had the strengths of those Others, they had their weaknesses. It was how Stormtiger had met his end; he’d tried to fly away from a fiery assault and it hadn’t worked.

Cricket had ties to old instincts, harpies were Zeus’ henchmen and one of the things he’d had them do in myth was keep food away from a blind guy as punishment. Here and now, we tapped into those instincts to lead her astray.

I was one of the last injured to make my way into the building, an old storage space that had been cleared a long time ago, but now showed the remnants of a squatter’s den — cardboard that had been laid out, blankets and clothes that were wet and covered with grime, heaps of garbage, as well as a scattering of needles.

An idea hit me.

“I call upon the Spirit of the Docks,” I said. “People you’re most closely tied to once called this place home. I, Taylor Hebert, daughter of Danny Hebert, granddaughter of Dean and Mable Hebert, seek your aid.”

Only the sound of Rachel’s dogs squeezing into the building was my answer.

I was disappointed it didn’t work.

“You’ve gotta work up to asking for help from spirits,” said Rachel from behind me. “You can’t do it spur of the moment. You’ve gotta make deals and build a relationship.”

I swallowed and nodded.

“Hookwolf’s coming,” said Lisa. “With the confines and the dogs it’ll be easier to fight him, but putting him down will be hard. Do we still have any flame cards? If we elementally charge the metal he wears it’ll weaken him.”

“Yeah,” said Aisha, her voice strained. “Didn’t use mine.”

“All the injured are going to have to hide,” Lisa continued. “So that he doesn’t come after us. It’ll be the last thing I’ll be able to do for a _while,_ but I think I can—”

“I’ll give you a power source,” I cut in. _I’m giving up so much to get this done._ Shifting, I moved the stick over to my left hand and extended the hand with the umbilical cord wrapped around it. “Chompers gave it to me. It’s supposed to create connections. I used it against the Alabaster and I’ve been using it to fuel connection breakers. For this night, against our mutual enemy, I grant its use to the Practitioner I know as Lisa.”

“This’ll help a _lot,”_ she said, taking it. “I might be able to help in little ways. But I’m not an active fighter.”

“I might be able to use your gun,” said Trevor, drifting past.

“I might need it,” she said. “But I can give you this,” she said handing over the needle with the blood. “If you manage to stab Tammi with it, no matter what happens we’ll have won in a capacity.” He nodded. “Taylor. You’ll have to hide too. I don’t think you’re up for a fight. You’re starting to sweat bullets.”

Her reminder didn’t help. My breaths came out tense and my head felt hot. I had so much weight on my stick that my arm shook. 

“How long ago did you wear a wolf’s form?” Rachel asked.

“The night of the Alabaster,” I said.

“I’m going to kiss you,” said Rachel. “Give you some of the Mangy Bitch’s power.”

A heat flash ran through me and my heart started run a mile a minute. As stupid as it was, it hit me that this would be my first kiss. I swallowed, unsure what to feel.

“Do it,” I said and my voice sounded strained.

Rachel stepped forward, took me by the back of my throat and kissed me. Her breath rushed into me and filled me up; my hackles rose and my senses solidified. I felt stronger and more powerful, my Sight pulsed and changed, no longer a focus on dark and light, but on the heady sense that the wolf blood had provided.

Beyond that there were other feelings: The feel of Rachel’s lips against my own, not soft but without the flaky, dry bits I saw from some people; then there was the smell of her, the slight twang of sweat, earth and dogs; and then there was her presence and warmth, which was enrapturing.

She stepped back and for a few moments I couldn’t focus, my stomach turning, my mind black and my heart doing a flip.

“Um…” the words left me.

“Try to move,” said Rachel.

I didn’t, feeling stuck and unmoored at the same time.

“Taylor,” said Lisa. I turned to her. “What you’re feeling is normal and there’s nothing wrong with it. I don’t want to rush what you’re going through, but you have to get your head back on this.”

I swallowed and nodded. The pain wasn’t as high as I expected as I shifted. It was still _there_ but between Rachel’s kiss and the goatskin cloak I could move again.

“It won’t last forever,” Rachel said. “If you were wearing the wolf right now it would stick, but it’ll slip and there might be blow back.”

“Okay,” I said, straightening my shoulders. I moved the stick to my right hand and unraveled my chain.

“Let’s get to work,” I said.

***

The space was largely dark, a little light from outside coming in through the windows; the ceiling was so high that though the dogs had grown larger — so big in fact that I could move beneath them while crouching slightly — they still had room to stand to full height.

Sophia, Ji-eun and I had found spaces in the darkness; Trevor remained in motion, on his skates, graceful as he slid through debris, wearing gloves that gloves with diagrams, each hand carrying its own sets of paper with diagrams. Rachel stood within her dogs, her appearance changed as she tapped into the Mangy Bitch — her hair was wild, her eyes bigger with a yellow glow, her teeth were sharp, bearing curled, glossy black claws.

 _I have claws too,_ I thought as I looked down at my hands.

Unlike when I’d been a wolf and felt the need for control, things were different now. In our group’s hierarchy, Rachel was in the lead.

_Is that why I felt what I felt? Because I’m subservient?_

But it didn’t make sense because as if some wall had fallen, a tide of information became clear to me. How I’d felt when I’d met Victoria and how the karmic imbalance had shown itself; or the woman from Melanie’s bar, the one who’d made me and only me feel things; or how I’d never thought about guys in that way.

At least not really.

_Is that why I care so much about Sophia? Because I have a crush on her?_

I pushed the thought out of my mind because it didn’t make sense. A lot of things didn’t make sense. Which was why it was so much easier to focus on the things that did.

Hookwolf appeared, half Angelica’s size — the smallest of the dogs — and adorned in blades, needles, hooks and knives. He had three tails and he dragged them as he moved, the sound of tearing concrete following them. His bulk scraping the sides, he slid into the doors and beady eyes glowing red ran through the room, taking us in.

Pointed, metal teeth gnashed against each other as the man stepped forward with the grace of a fighting dog, metal claws raking the floor, and each tail flicking, hitting the ground so hard it shattered.

He started to laugh, a low sound that rumbled through me, _brooking_ me to lay low, ears down and tail tucked in, waiting for his permission as my leader.

 _I’m Taylor Hebert,_ I thought. _Daughter of Danny and Annette Hebert. A Practitioner who succeeded over the Bogeyman Chompers and won an Alabaster her freedom. I’m beneath no one._

I felt more pain but the effect slipped.

The dogs were restless, but Rachel stood her ground — hunched forward, teeth barred and her breath coming out heavy.

“I fucked up your dog fighting ring,” Rachel said and she laughed. “You’re a weak piece of shit and I showed you that by doing it on my own. You think you have power over me, little wolf? You have no fucking idea the spirits I’ve talked to, the clout I have.”

“I wasn’t there, little bitch,” the man rumbled. “If I were. I would have taken your head off.”

“Is that a promise?” Rachel said. “I’m here now. Do you promise to take my head off if we fight?”

“I’m not a Practitioner,” said Hookwolf.

“You’re Other enough for it to count,” she said. “Even if you aren’t bound by Solomon’s shit the spirits still watch and judge. So do you promise? Or are you going to pussy it out? And that’s cat pussy not vagina.”

Hookwolf bristled and I felt a similar bristle run through me. There was nothing worse than being called a cat.

“I’ll take your head off,” he said a moment before he _pounced._

The man was near as large as a car but he took off with speed and strength, the blades on his skin moving akin to a blender. Judas jumped to the fore. They slammed into each other and landed to the side, teeth biting and paws swiping; every time Hookwolf hit, it raked at Judas’ calcified muscle, deep enough to produce spurts of blood. The dog’s hit yielded no blood, but each resulted in bent and torn metal.

They tussled and Hookwolf did something to his tails, throwing them around the dogs so they cinched tight around limbs and mouth. Hookwolf threw himself off Judas, which whipped his tails and threw the dogs at once side of the wall. Judas shifted, got up and then shook his head, looking dizzied.

The dog started to move.

“Stay,” Hookwolf said and it did. He started to laugh.

Rachel whistled and pointed. Brutus and Angelica took off. Hookwolf planted himself, then started to push off. Ji-eun screamed and it distracted the man, he turned to one side as his body pushed him forward. Brutus, big and strong, slammed into him and pushed him bodily into the ground; Angelica did the same a moment later, her mouth opened to take one of his limbs. Hookwolf started to whir, metal biting through the dogs and producing blood.

He seemed stronger than both because he shifted, almost throwing them off before they planted themselves onto him better. He tried to do the same thing and failed.

“It seems you can’t move,” Rachel said as she stepped forward, her body language radiating smugness. “It’ll be hard to tear off my head now, won’t it?”

Hookwolf let out a breath. “Star light,” he said.

“Judas, _kill,”_ said Rachel and the words shook me. The dog moved eagerly, darting across the room to its quarry.

“Star blindly bright,” Hookwolf finished.

There was a flash, only kept from being blinded by the remnants of Lisa’s diagram over my eyes — though I felt as the last of its power being was used up. The light started _within_ the mess of blades and hooks, hitting them and being cast at every point in the room, in the corner of my eyes I spotted as some places got more light than the others, and it was in those places that Hookwolf’s backup arrived.

Tammi the Nazi, Kayden and Theo Anders and Viktor.

“Fuck,” Trevor muttered, a reflection of my own thoughts.

 _They_ weren’t supposed to be mobile. They should have taken longer to get here, but Lisa must have had bad intel if she’d missed this.

“Fuck is right,” Tammi said. She had a long, silver whistle around her neck; she took it and raised it to her lips. She blew and the sound was _piercing._ Hitting me, Rachel, and the dogs to almost make us _keel_ over. Hookwolf, unlike the rest of us, found new strength; with a mighty heave he threw Angelica and Brutus off, then bashed Judas aside as the dog went on the attack.

He threw himself Rachel’s way but the movement was too short. Th landing was just before her, getting in the way of pieces of paper Trevor had thrown while skating past. Hookwolf ignored them and went for Rachel; she threw herself to the side, spun and found her feet, darting away with increased speed.

The dogs were up and ready for combat. Trevor snapped his fingers and I watched as webs appeared around Hookwolf, all at once pulling him towards a mental beam on the far side of the room. He stuck only for a moment, too strong for the effect to hold, but two things had happened: The goblin-wolf was away from his allies, which meant Rachel could focus on keeping him busy; and some of papers that had caught him had diagrams that imparted their elemental nature to whatever they stuck on. The longer this dragged out, the weaker Hookwolf would be as his goblin nature was attacked.

_Focus on what you’re supposed to be doing._

Tammi had called in a _lot_ of echoes in varying states of corporeality. Some young and vivid, while others flickered so much it was hard to see the person beyond. What was clear was that all of them were white.

I started to move, reaching for salt with one hand and rubbing it on my stick. A ghost got to close and I dashed it with salt. I finished what I was doing and started to move through the building, using darkness to my advantage to get closer them, using my peripheral vision to look at them so they wouldn’t see me coming.

Thankfully Trevor took up most of their attention, with most of the echoes were rushing him and in the direction of Sophia and Ji-eun.

“I feel endangered by this darkness,” I heard Kayden say, her voice soft and demur. The world listened to her plea and light sprang up, not from nowhere, but it reflected itself in ways that revealed those of us who wanted to sneak around, with Sophia bearing the brunt of it.

Viktor stepped forward, pistol in his hand, directed at Sophia. Once, twice, thrice he shot and all of them missed. Trevor moved past their group and threw up more cards, they flew through the air, the wind carrying them towards the group, moving through the ghosts who chased after him.

“The voice of Andrew Callahan compels the wind,” said Viktor. “Cast these things away.”

A swift wind pushed the papers aside. They were caught by a breeze and started to chase after Trevor. He muttered an oath and, after grabbing some salt, started skate with vigour towards Rachel’s fight with Hookwolf — a spectacle that was thankfully kept a long way from the rest of us.

I neared, closer to Theo and Kayden, with my stick already mid swing. Viktor turned and pointed the gun at my face. My whole life flashed before my eyes. A scream came as he started to shoot. His hand changed direction and shot into a patch of darkness. I continued to swing towards Theo and Kayden.

She scrambled back while his eyes widened. He tried to raise a gauntleted arm to protect himself but he was too slow. The stick caught him at his side and he toppled over, almost crashing into Tammi.

I wanted to capitalise, to drive the point home but a ghost appeared between us and took my hand—

_“I should have been the one to get that promotion,” Darren said, eyes moving towards Deshawn. The man was at his desk, people around him, smiling and shaking his hand. “If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s…you know, he wouldn’t have gotten it. It because of that Affirmative Action. Coming in here, not even qualified and taking our jobs.”_

_“Darren he’s from NYU,” said Sonnie._

_Darren’s lips curled as he took her in. He’d thought he had a friend in her, but there was no one. He swallowed the deep resentment but promised to make that man pay._

—the arm with the chain swung, cutting through the echo and towards the people beyond. Viktor stepped forward and deftly took the chain, wincing as it seared his hand.

Sophia appeared, knife moving to swipe at a downed Tammi.

“Out!” Tammi shouted and the Manacled Man sprang into existence. He waved an arm and caught Sophia, pushing her back. She reached for salt and threw, the man flickered but resolved again, striding to attack her again.

I focused on my fight as Viktor stepped forward, foot thrusting out. I moved my stick to guard and I found the motion sluggish, as though some of my reflexes had been stolen. Viktor managed to get through my guard and the kick landed in my chest. I stumbled back, the cloak helping me from losing my footing.

He was already on me but I reached for everything Elwin had taught me. I moved the chain to cause further burning. He winced and I used that to go on the attack, poking at his centre with my stick. Viktor dodged, whipped the chain to make it bite against my hand then pulled and let it go as I leaned back for better leverage.

I caught myself before falling but Viktor was already on me, getting so close my stick was no longer a good weapon. I let it go and guarded against a punch. It was a feint and he managed to land one to my side, then quickly my face before I could guard. I fell and in the process reached for my flashlight; he came closer and I twisted, revealing the light. It clicked on and he stumbled back, dazed and blinded.

“Eyes of the Photographer, Ricky Gonzalez,” he said. “Adroitness of the Sensei, Jimmy Kim.”

He ran at me. I spun to the side and got to my feet. I swung my chain and he moved under it, getting in my guard again. I stepped back, in the way stumbling through a ghost—

_“Look at them,” Father said. “Disgusting things think they own the place.”_

_She looked and she saw it. They were disgusting. An idea came to her. A seduction. By year’s end she would have the wealth that was so rightly hers._

—that meant Viktor landed another kick that slammed me against a wall before I hit the ground, dropping a flashlight I saw through webs was not mine, but now belonged to Kayden Anders.

Hand out — _stick!_ — my stick spun on the ground towards my hand. It should have hit Viktor but the man jumped; with stick in hand I pushed myself up then swung forward, forcing him to duck and weave.

Another whistle reached the air and Viktor, with a burst of speed, knocked me down again, harder and this time pulling at my chain. It slipped from my hand as if by magic, and encircled his own.

My eyes flashed and I looked at the web between me and the chain. It was gone, now connected to him. He started to swing the chain, looming above me. It slipped from his hand and flew up, crashing through a high window to the street outside.

 _Thank you Lisa,_ I thought and that must have given something away because he turned, then quickly dodged. Above the snarls, barks and growls from the dogs, the metal against metal which reverberated as Hookwolf moved, the periodic screams from Ji-eun and the mutterings from echoes and spirits, a shot rang out, loud and deafening.

Viktor dodged once more as another shot rang out, pulling a knife from his side and cutting through the air as a third shot rang out; there was a flash of light as the bullet struck, then a ping as it hit a wall. Viktor threw the knife and it flew into a patch of concentrated darkness, popping it like a bubble to reveal Lisa’s group.

Pushing myself up I went on the attack and before my stick could meet its mark a glint of light caught my eye, reflected from the flashlight that I’d dropped. I missed as Viktor ducked, spun and then kicked me. Looking towards me meant he couldn’t see Lisa, that he missed as a web from her to him went blindingly bright and unwaveringly rigid.

A crack rang out and a bullet hit the man’s head, taking a chunk off and splattering blood on my lower face.

Viktor stumbled and fell, his body still moving in convulsions.

For a moment I couldn’t move, stuck watching body near my feet as blood spread out from the man’s head. It seemed as though the noise in the room dulled, became less sharp even as people _still_ moved. Tammi stood in place, whistle at her lips, ready to be blown; Theo, I noticed, had stumbled back after finding his feet, his mouth agape; Kayden’s expression was narrowed and angry; and Hookwolf fought more desperately against the dogs.

Sophia acted, darting forward through the confusion, dashing salt as she went.

“No!” said Kayden as she swept her hand. The flashlight spun. Lisa shot and had to swerve her gun up as light found her eyes — she missed; and Sophia was blinded, giving Tammi enough time to stumble back out of the way.

She blew the whistle and more echoes stuttered into existence, one of them big with burly arms, carrying a whip. It went after her, its whip cracking as it threw it out. Sophia, who’d been trying to run, fell to the impact; the echo disappeared after the impact, its strength spent.

Trevor leapt onto a wall, then pushed himself through the air, throwing out salt as he did. He landed with a clack behind the trio; he whipped around and thrust himself forward, a hand with a syringe filled with blood reaching out. Purity started to sweep out her hand again but a scream distracted her, making her spin the flashlight so it shone on Ji-eun who’d positioned herself near Hookwolf. The man was blinded and bloodied, and Brutus capitalised, two mouths biting into metal and tearing out chunks, trying to get at a morsel of flesh at the centre.

Trevor continued forward, slamming into Tammi’s midsection and whisking her away from the group. She started to blow on the whistle but Trevor changed direction on a dime, throwing the girl aside. She fell and rolled, her whistle coming off her as she continued until she stopped near Lisa and the others.

There was more darkness surrounding her, I saw, but nothing that looked like a curse or a magical effect.

Lisa pointed her gun at the girl.

“No!” Sophia shouted, her voice harsh and filled with pain. “I should finish this.”

“You won’t!” Kayden said and the flashlight flared, revealing a light sprite so bright it was impossible to look at.

“Aisha!” said Lisa.

“I call upon the Dapper Dark Dude,” I heard Aisha say, her voice stronger than before. I opened my eyes a small amount and caught sight of her, more colour than before, but still pale, the same was true for Madison beside her. Between them was a bright connection, much like the one that had existed between me and the Alabaster. “By compacts made with my brother, Grue, I bid your service. Fell this brightness and stop that Nazi bitch from doing it again. Do this and you’re free!”

The cold of night swept over the room, then came a small voice, surprisingly calm. “It’s night,” the voice said, with an accent of a native Spanish speaker, “light this bright doesn’t make sense.”

The light dimmed. Slowly I opened my eyes further, finding that the light that now surrounded us was silver, gentle and more romantic.

The Other didn’t look dapper, indeed he looked like a jock. He wasn’t too tall, he wore faded jeans, a white t-shirt and a blue and white letterman jacket; his head and hands were made of inky darkness, spots of white the seemed like starts moving within them.

“There’s no moon out tonight,” said the Dapper Dark Dude.

The light shifted from silver to the dull yellow of a street lamp.

“This area of the Bay doesn’t have those lights,” he said, “and I compel all false light to be gone.”

The sprite blinked out of existence and so did the beam from the flashlight as it cracked.

Sophia’s face was hidden by a mask, but I could see how smug she was as she sauntered over to Tammi. She turned to me.

“Some people deserve to die, Hebert,” she said to me. “And she’s—”

Kayden shifted.

“Stop,” Lisa said, pointing her gun the woman’s way.

“I have a daughter,” she said. “If you shoot me she’ll be without a mother.”

“I know your history,” said Lisa. “I’m unmoved.”

“If you kill me you’ll have Max to contend with,” the woman said.

Lisa snorted. “And here I thought you’d tricked yourself into believing you were no longer a Nazi,” she said. “Funny how easy it was to get into bed with them again, metaphorically speaking. Or is that literally, now?”

There was too much joy in her voice seeing as she’d killed someone less than a minute ago.

“Don’t kill her,” said Theo. “Please. I can…I can tell you stuff. Crimes she’s committed. She can go to jail, but…death?”

“If she doesn’t die she’s going to try something,” said Sophia. “It might not be directly at me, but it might be someone like me, a person of colour, someone she doesn’t like for some reason. She’d do more good if she were dead. All of you would.”

“You could have her make oaths,” said Theo.

“Nah,” Sophia countered. “I have a simpler way of making sure she does good. One she won’t be able to weasel out of.”

“Then I could tell you stuff,” said Theo. “Ways to get to my father. I could tell you the defences around his forge.”

“Theo,” Kayden said. _“Don’t.”_

Theo stood taller, then faltered as Hookwolf roared. He tried to jump towards us but Angelica bowled him over, ripping more metal from his emaciated form.

“Don’t kill her. If you can, don’t kill anyone, make it so they can be arrested and you’ll have a better chance of ending the Empire.”

A gunshot reverberated from outside, then three more times.

“More Nazis?” Sophia asked, worried.

“No,” said Lisa. “Fuck. _Now_ they arrive.”

“Who?” Sophia asked.

“Protectorate,” said Lisa. Angelica was batted aside by Hookwolf and Judas slammed into as he tried to go on the attack. Instead of trying to attack as I thought he might, he ran deeper into the building, _running._

“You said you’d take my head off!” Rachel screamed, a laugh in her voice. “Weakling! Craven! Coward!” she finished stamping her foot so hard against the ground I felt something immaterial reverberate.

“They’re going to take this away from me,” Sophia said, frustration in her voice.

“Yeah,” Lisa muttered. “They are, and I don’t think there’s anything you can do. You kill her and they can arrest you, they have the establishment on their side. The best thing we can do is to let them have it, hopefully they can cover up things with Viktor if we don’t make this a fight. Speaking for the Undersiders, we’re done fighting tonight.”

She looked at me as she said that. I nodded, half my attention still on the ever-extending pool of blood that had touched my shoe.

“Keep an eye on them,” Sophia snarled as she walked towards me, picking up the silver whistle along the way. She started to pull out some chalk from her bag and started to draw a circle. “Move,” she said to me and I pushed myself up, shakily getting to my feet.

With Hookwolf having ran, Rachel and the dogs got closer, taking up guarding Tammi, Kayden and Theo.

Sophia worked quickly, doing the same diagram she’d done so long ago when she’d killed three people.

I heard their footsteps first before the two women walked in. Officer Williams and Hannah, the former dressed in clothes that looked police even though they looked casual and the latter in military-esque fatigues, the American flag at her breast which shone with the light of attention and affection.

“Ms Hess,” said Hannah. “I’d like it if you stopped what you’re doing.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you like,” said Sophia.

“We don’t want this to be harder than it needs to be,” Hannah continued.

“Then don’t make it,” she said.

“It would help if we knew what you were doing,” said Officer Williams.

Sophia didn’t say anything, her focus only on her work.

“A reparations echo,” I said, finally finding my voice. “If he dies without fixing the shit he’s done, the world is still worse. Sophia’s trying to fix that.”

The two women shared a look. “You may continue,” said Hannah.

“You say that like I was going to fucking stop,” she muttered.

“Sammie, you still have Mr Hebert’s number?” Hannah said. My heart jumped to my throat and my eyes went wide. Officer Williams nodded. “Call an ambulance and the call him. Ms Hebert’s gotten in over her head, we’ll tell her father just enough that he keeps a closer eye on her.”

“You can’t hit Calvert so you’re going after her,” Lisa said. “You might be phrasing it like you’re only doing it from the goodness of your heart, but we know that’s not it. You’re in ass covering mode, and the way to cover your ass right now is to make sure you’re still in control.”

The two women shared another look before Officer Williams pulled out a badge and held it up. “You all have the right to remain silent,” she said. “Anything you say can and will be used against you.”

“Do we shut up?” Trevor asked. “Is that magical?”

“Yeah,” said Lisa. “It’d be a good idea to. You guys might want to talk to the Anders boy, though, he said something about his father’s forge which you might find interesting.”

Officer Williams nodded and went to the pair while Hannah kept watching Sophia. Tammi stayed on her back on the ground, breathing hard as Brutus’ heads all glared down at her.

Not a victory and I’d seen someone’s head get blown off. But at least I would still have my closure, even if navigating around Dad would be hard.

 _Gotta look on the bright side,_ I told myself. But looking down on the body on the ground, that seemed very hard to do.

***

Roving red and blue light struck side of buildings, stretching shadows and other things that lurked within the darkness. For the most part they kept their distance, glowing eyes watching from crevices and piles of trash, others on rooftops and some peering from between broken boards. A man stood a distance away, wearing layered clothes, white but with sun burnt skin and with a full beard; he brought a drink-shaped paper bag to his lips and took a healthy swig.

It was like in any human neighbourhood, where something happened and every person got out of their house to check. The Others in the area had heard the noise and disturbance, and now that the police were here they felt sure enough to check, to be up to date with the newest gossip.

There were two police cars and four uniformed cops in total, the area cordoned off and the officers standing guard. The Man in Blue was one of them, though he stood with Officer Williams and Hannah as they talked to Tammi, Kayden and Theo.

The others were spread out around me, getting their own individual attention from the paramedics who’d arrived. Two ambulances that had six people between them. Those who could stand were on their feet and others were on stretchers like I was one.

I lay back, cloak and shoes off, my stick and stuff to the side, and a man standing over me who was touching my arm and checking it over. He was a young guy with light brown hair and eyes that seemed owl-like — big, round and yellow.

“Tell me when you feel any pain,” he reminded me, his voice deep with a rush of wind that gave it an airiness to it.

“Okay,” I said. “Are you an Other or a Practitioner?”

“Other,” the man said, absently. “And I’m what’s called a Rogue.”

“I don’t know what that is,” I said.

“It’s still new,” he said, “and it’s not something Practitioners can comprehend which is why they don’t teach it to their students. I’m one of many Others who essentially wants to lead a normal life without worry of being bound by a Practitioner. I made deals with the Protectorate, how I would conduct myself, and in a sense I have their protection.”

“Are the other Rogues in the Bay?”

He stopped. “A few,” he said. “But I wouldn’t go looking for them trying to bind them. We’re a very tight community.”

I shook my head. “I wasn’t going to do that,” I said and stopped as a surge of pain ran through me. He’d touched my lower arm. For a moment his hand became a wing as he rubbed my arm and the pain eased. “It hit me a while ago that an Other I’d essentially made, that I didn’t treat them as a person.”

“We aren’t people,” the man said. He moved up from my arm to my shoulder. “Tension. Stress when you’re so young.”

“There’s a lot going on,” I said.

“I know,” he said. “Depending on how things fall into place, I might have to move to another city or find myself feeling unsafe.”

“You have a lot invested in who becomes Lord,” I said and sighed.

He moved from my left to my right. “I can guess that you didn’t think about that as you were choosing a side,” he said.

“There are always people who benefit from the status quo,” said Lisa as she stepped closer. “That doesn’t mean it’s always right, that it doesn’t need to change.”

“Through change comes chaos,” said the man.

“Through change comes change,” Lisa returned. She looked at me and smiled. “How are you doing?”

“Terrified about my Dad coming here,” I said, “terrified about going to sleep and dreaming about all the shit that happened tonight, confused about a lot of things, looking forward to others but that’s mixed with fear.”

Another wince and feathers once against brushed against that spot.

“I don’t know how things are going to go the next few days, but if you need to talk, I’m here for it, alright?” she said.

I nodded. “What’s going to happen to them?”

“Theo’s putting his metaphorical money where his mouth it,” she said. “He’s telling them everything they need to know about the Nazis. Tammi will be going to juvie, there’s some stuff in her past that’ll make it stick and she’ll be hard pressed to make it slip with everything we did; Kayden’s going to be in a lot of trouble, but I don’t think she’ll be arrested, it’ll be more social as it gets out what she’s a part of; and Theo’s going into protective custody until things blow over, I think.”

“What?” I asked, because Lisa had a frown.

“I’ve seen people like him before,” she said. “People who don’t agree with their family’s views but never do anything about it. A lot of them become Nazis themselves given time, others stay in those environments while telling themselves that they’re different, but a few of them get out of that life. I think Theo might be in the latter group. A part of me wishes I’d seen it earlier, because I would have found a reason to talk to him, give him more direction.”

The Paramedic Other was now at my feet and he waved his had feathered hand, easing the burning pain.

“How are the Undersiders?”

“Rachel’s okay, used some healing from her host which means she’s more of a furry now. Aisha needs to feed her Self and Trevor is the least hurt out of all of us. I think it might be the skates because the kid knows how to work them. After everything’s done I want to get him to meet the god he’s mooching energy from because movement might be his shtick.”

“Trevor’s going to enjoy that, I think,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said. “But that’ll have to wait until things have settled. There’s still a long way before we can win and this wasn’t even Calvert’s master plan.”

“Okay,” said the man. “I’ve rushed things along but you still have a lot of healing to do. I’d suggest that you not do much over the next few days, rest and relax, do something you enjoy because you’re very stressed. Your Self has gotten a knock lately, nothing bad, I don’t think, it’s brighter and more realised, but you might have to investigate that because it’ll lead to newness. If you have to engage in practice, make it non-stressful; maybe a walk through the park or a communion with a flower spirit.”

“Can I do that?” I asked.

“It’s surprising sometimes how new you are to all this,” Lisa said. “Thanks for your help, Owlbert.”

“I prefer Olly,” he said.

Lisa nodded. “Oh, I might get a little flack for this from a teammate, but there’s a god-begotten whose free of Practitioner’s binding. Maybe you can give him community, he’s pretty young.”

Olly shrugged. “Take care of yourself,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “I offer medical help and advice whether it be magical or mundane. Of course there’s a price but that can be discussed another time.”

“Okay,” I said, taking it. Olly walked off. “Are you talking about the Dapper Dude?”

Lisa nodded. “The father was human and the mother was possessed by a Tzitzimimeh. He got pregnant for a few months, then gave birth to a baby of darkness. Unfortunately the father died – the parts weren’t right – Dapper consumed him and he learned most of what he knew from the process. Most of his chill he gets from his father, apparently.”

“There’s still a lot of things about this world I don’t understand,” I said.

“I think that’s part of what makes it fun,” she said. “Gonna check on the others. You okay alone?”

I nodded absently and lay back, letting my thoughts drift without sticking to any one thing in particular. Footsteps disturbed me from my revelries.

It was Madison and she had one arm in a sling, her hair was messy and she had cuts on her face; her face looked pale and shiny, dark bags under her eyes.

“What do you want?” I asked, my tone terse.

“To answer your questions,” she said, her voice shaky. She swallowed. “Hannah told me that I had to feed my Self, the person I think I am and who I want to me, and I think this counts.”

“Okay,” I said. “Why?”

She didn’t say anything.

“Why did you do it? Why did you hurt me like that? Why were you bullying me?”

Her eyes went glassy. “It was a joke,” she said, “at least that’s what I thought. It was also a way to get in with Emma and Sophia. Both of them were popular in their own way: Emma’s stunning and beautiful and everyone likes her; and Sophia’s…intense, good at track and she gets attention like no one else. Middle school…it wasn’t the best for me, and I wanted to make a fresh start when I got to high school. So I saw this popular girls making fun of you, I tried it and they let me into their circle. It was small stuff, nothing harmful—”

“Stuff that hurt me,” I said. “A _lot._ When I was feeling down and alone, you just added onto that. I couldn’t never let myself be free while at school.”

“I…I never thought about that,” she said. “I never thought about you. It—it was just fun and games. Everyone laughed and no one really stopped us.”

“You needed someone to stop you for you to know it was wrong?” I asked, anger finding my voice.

Madison said nothing. She only looked down.

“The locker,” I said. “Whose idea was it?”

For a moment there was silence, so long I thought she wouldn’t answer.

“I don’t know,” she said. “It was just something that came up, starting off as a joke, something we could talk about when we were bored. We prepared the stuff but all the time I thought we’d stop. Then it happened. I was relieved when we stopped.”

“Were you ever guilty for what you did?”

“After the locker?” she said and she nodded. “I was so glad we stopped.”

“Were you ever sorry?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, tears starting to form. “We were terrible to you, Taylor.”

“But you’ve never said,” I said. “Not once.”

Again there was silence.

I nodded, swallowing. “Okay,” I said.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” I said.

“What now?” she said.

“I don’t know,” I said. Looking at her she expected something. “If you want my forgiveness, then…I don’t know because I’m not forgiving you.”

“That’s…” She nodded, turned and then left.

A tired breath left me and I laid back once more.

It wasn’t much longer before Dad arrived and my heart jumped and throat dried. He rushed to my side and it was round about the same time that Officer Williams neared.

“Taylor,” Dad said, panic in his voice. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“I—”

“If I may?” said Officer Williams. I frowned. It was hard to think how they could spin this without telling him about magic. “Mr Hebert, Taylor and her compatriots were making their way into the docks when they were attacked by individuals with ties to E88.”

“I… _why?_ What? I don’t understand,” Dad said.

“I cannot know for sure, Mr Hebert,” she said, “but I’ve spoken to Taylor. I know that you’ve started conducting business that is compounding what is an already disruptive period for Mr Maximilian Anders.”

“You think this is him coming for me for helping organise the unionising?” Dad said. He sounded just like when Emma’s parents had told him to pull himself back together and take care of me — scared and guilty for failing me.

“It wasn’t your fault, Dad,” I said. “Tammi, one of them, I was having trouble with her at school before this started. She can after Sophia and me, this is more of that.”

“Fuck,” Dad muttered. “What is going on at that school?”

“It might be a good idea for you and your daughter to stay home for a couple of days,” Officer Williams said. “One of the people here was the son of Mr Anders. We don’t know what the fallout will be, but you may be better protected at your residence.”

“Of course,” Dad said. “Anything. Will we need police protection?”

“You might,” she said, “but we don’t have the resources. Budget cuts.”

Dad frowned. “The police budget is one of the few that increase. Where’s that money going if it can’t help with this?”

“It hasn’t increased enough,” she continued. “There’s been increased criminal activity. We’re stretched thin. This is one of those avenues we won’t be able to cover.”

“Dad,” I said. “Can I talk to you in private?”

“Please?” he said to the officer. She nodded and moved away. “What were you even doing out here? I thought you were going to stay at home?”

“Um…she’s trying to get you to stop what you’re doing,” I said. “The thing with the march, everything. She wants you to stop.”

“No, but…she’s right. What I’m doing put you in danger—”

“No. It was things _I_ did. But even if it was you, it’s still worth doing,” I said. “It’s important. Remember, you told me that some things were so important that they were worth the danger. This is that. You can’t stop what you’re doing. Not because I was hurt.”

“Taylor…” he said. “I’m your father—”

“And what you do will decide the person I’m going to be,” I interrupted. “This strike is going to help a lot of people, and if you stop right now…I’m not even sure how I’ll feel. Listen, I know things aren’t just going to magically work because of this, but…it makes me feel good that at least people are trying, that _you’re_ trying.”

He sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “Can we get you home?” he said. “Talk about this later?”

“Okay,” I said and it was easy because I was tired and in pain. The injuries had been helped along but they still ran through me.

“Emma,” he said. “I saw her when I was coming in. Should we drive her back home?”

I swallowed, then shook my head.

Dad didn’t ask any questions, got my stuff and helped me get to the car.

The ride back home was silent.

***

As tired as I was, sleep didn’t come easy and when it did come the impression of Viktor’s head being blown open stood starkly in my mind; his blood moved with a life of its own, rolling towards me then climbing up and assaulting my body — doing its best to get into my ears, eyes, mouth and noise.

Always before it could wrap me up completely I woke up in a cold sweat.

Six times in happened without incident, my eyes flicking open, a few minutes where I caught my breath and slowed my heart, counted metaphorical sheep before drifting again; and on the seventh I opened my eyes to the shock of Amber standing over me.

“What’s going on?” I asked, the words struggling to leave my throat.

“There’s a fox on the window,” she said. “Sophia Hess.”

I looked and there she was, dark and smoky with glowing eyes, sitting on the slanted roof outside of my window.

“Can you let her in, please?”

Amber nodded and they went to the window, silently opening it. Sophia hopped in and used the wind to drift through the air and land on the foot of my bed. She sat there, her two tails flicking as she stared up at me.

“Are you going to say anything?” I asked, after a few minutes had passed.

“You wanted to ask questions,” she said. “I’m here.”

I swallowed and pulled myself up, still covering myself with my blankets. The shift meant moisture-soaked clothes touched different parts of my skin, and the cold prickles unsettled me. I gave myself a moment to calm before I returned to the fox at the foot of my bed.

“Why?” I started, just like I had with Madison. “Why did you do it?”

“I don’t know,” the fox said.

A low anger started at the base of my stomach, filling me up when I felt so cold, numb and disgusting.

“Then make a guess,” I said, my irritation bleeding through. “Why do you think you did?”

“I think that I wanted you to fight,” she said. “To stand up for yourself.”

“Didn’t we already establish that that’s bullshit?” I asked. “That even if I’d stood up to you, you wouldn’t have stopped?”

Slowly, she nodded. “But that’s what I thought,” she said.

“Can you not be a Practitioner right now?” I asked, aware that my voice was rising. I took a deep breath, counted to five then continued, “Can you just answer me?”

“Why do you need this answers, anyway?”

“So that I _know,”_ I said. “So that things make a little more sense. Do you know how horrible it was for that stuff to happen to me? Then I found out other stuff about it that made it worse? On a human-level, I want to know _why?_ Why did it give you three so much joy to make my life so fucked up?”

“There wasn’t joy,” said Sophia.

“Then what was there? Why did you do it?”

“You just didn’t fight back, Hebert,” she said. “Even when you Awakened, when you could have sent something at us you still didn’t fight back. That type of person always disgusted me. The type that lets stuff happened to them, took it and folded. You were a sad sack and I didn’t want that.”

“It…it feels like you’re saying this is all my fault,” I muttered. “When you could have just let me be, just let me enjoy my life as it was.”

“If it wasn’t me, it wouldn’t have been someone else—”

“But it’s still horrible that it _was_ you in the first place,” I hit back. “That doesn’t absolve you of what you did.”

“It worked out, didn’t it? You’re the person you are now because of me,” she said. I bristled. “You’re tough and strong, and can go through a lot because of what I did.”

I opened my mouth, tried to conceptualise an answer and none came to me. A part of me wanted to be angry but I couldn’t, not really, it was just… _sad_ in a way that was hard to put into words.

“The locker,” I said. “Who’s idea was it?”

“Madison said it would be funny after we watched a movie,” she said, no emotion in the words. “Stuffing you into a locker. The pads were Emma, she said you were disgusting and you’d feel right at home. I tapped some goblins to get all the stuff.”

“Do you feel guilty for that?” I asked. “For everything else?”

“I know it was wrong,” she said. “I know it was shitty. I know that I was on a power trip.” Her voice faltered. “I know that the target wasn’t you.” She stopped, eyes boring in on me. “It was a young me. Someone who was too trusting and almost got a fucked up Other forced into them before things went tits up for the Practitioner. Someone who didn’t see what the world was really like for a long time. Someone who didn’t have teeth.”

She’d been hurt enough that she’d had to find the Alabaster, with only scraps of the practice at her disposal. Then the Alabaster had led her to people that would help her build up her strength. She had a fucked-up stepfather and she used the past tense when she was talking about him.

The picture wasn’t complete, but it made a little bit more sense.

But what did that mean for me? Did I forgive her because she’d had a fucked-up life? Was that how it worked?

“I think that’s enough,” I said.

“Are my terms of the agreement met?” she asked.

“Yeah. They are,” I said.

She nodded then went to the window. She hopped out and disappeared into the dawn.

I was more tired than before as I lay back, and a blink later I had fallen once more into a fitful sleep.


	29. Chapter 29

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Dad asked, not for the first time. He looked a little pale and there were wrinkles around his eyes, but he’d dressed well in a shirt and cardigan, new beige slacks and loafers that I didn’t personally like but had brought a smile to his face when we’d still been testing the waters with going out; he carried an old leather bag that had his laptop and a few files I knew belonged to potential hires – trusted people who’d work alongside him.

Two weeks had passed since Tammi and the other Nazis had attacked, and in that time I hadn’t really been able to leave the house because of how terrified Dad was of retaliation. He had gone to Winslow, explained everything — having to call Officer Williams to prove that I was in danger — and convinced Principal Blackwell to prepare a packet so I could study at home, with Dad bringing in any assignments that I had to do later.

Which had meant he and I had been busy during the past two weeks: Him with his new job, and me with my schoolwork.

But our respite wasn’t able to last forever and now he had to go into work.

“Dad,” I said. “Go. I’ll be in the house. I should be okay.”

He sighed. “I’m just worried. It’s still crazy out there,” he said. “A lot of people are upset.”

“Yeah,” I said.

A week ago there’d been reports of a meteorite striking an abandoned warehouse, apparently the place had been over some old gas lines and the burning rock and build-up of gas had meant an explosion. Lisa was the one who’d told me that the ‘meteorite’ had been a move made by Colin. The man had attacked one of the largest warrens in the city and killed a whole _host_ of goblins.

Some had survived, and they were now out in the city causing trouble: apartments and houses were being burgled; there were increased reports of squatters — some even trying to get into the old storage units; cars were being vandalised; a lot of crude graffiti was starting to pop up in places; and mixed in it all — because the Bay was still the Bay — were hate crimes.

Beyond them, there was chatter of people who wanted to burn the Medhall HQ and thus security had increased, along with the police presence and patrols which were _not_ helping things at least going by Lisa and Dad, the news though told another story.

“Okay,” Dad said. “Okay. You’ll keep your phone on you? Carry your pepper spray?”

“I’ll have them,” I said.

He nodded. “Stay safe,” he said. He leaned in for a hug and I accepted it. Dad went to his car and I watched him as he drove away.

There was a bit of worry as I watched the car disappear behind fences from neighbouring houses, but Dad worked for Mr Calvert now, and I had to trust that he would at least do his best to protect him. If not for me, then because the Spirit of the Docks had a relationship with Dad, maybe a better relationship than I did.

A web line flared, one that had become familiar to me: Amber.

“Do we have any trouble?” I asked them.

They shook their head. “None that I saw,” they said. “There was something interesting that I saw outside in the morning.”

“Yeah?” I said.

Most of my weight was leaned against my stick as Amber and I went to the basement. It wasn’t something I’d noticed at first, but the point of my stick had stabbed against my hand the first time I’d used it as a walking stick, but the more I’d used it as such, the smoother it felt. I couldn’t be sure if that was because my hand was more calloused or magic in the stick.

They nodded, smiling. “It was a spirit of flight,” said Amber. “It took the form of a bird and it flew from tree to tree. The colouring was _so_ beautiful, with these bright colours that changed with the light. I wanted to go out into the yard and watch it.”

“Why didn’t you?” I asked. “I don’t think we made a deal that keeps you in the house.”

Amber shook their head. “It’s dangerous outside,” they said. “It’s safer in the house.”

I stopped, the creak of the stairs loud against the silent basement. Amber was short and lithe, with hands that always fidgeted, and a head that didn’t stop moving to take everything in. 

“Do you like how you are, Amber?” I asked, my voice strained. “Being so afraid all the time.”

Their eyes widened. “It’s all that I am,” they said.

“I could change that, I think. Things are awkward because the Protectorate and I aren’t on the same side, technically, but I could trade some expertise with Dennis so we could infuse you with some aspects of bravery. If you want that.”

Amber swallowed. “But…that’ll make me less me,” they said. “I’m me and I want to be me. I don’t want to change.”

“But you change all the time,” I said. “You seem different than the first time you were here. You’re… _more.”_

“But that change is different,” said Amber. “I don’t feel it happening and it happens in small ways that make sense. If the change is too big and too fast, the person who is on the other side isn’t really me.”

“Okay,” I said, “if that’s how you feel, I’ll respect it.”

They smiled.

I took a breath, aware that I didn’t have as much power as I’d had a while back and that losing Amber might hurt, but…

“Amber, are you happy here? With me? Or do you want to be free to travel or go out into the world?”

“The world is dangerous,” they said. “I want to be safe and you have walls that keep me safe. It’s not like the Ruins, where the rain makes me _less_ and I have to worry about being eaten; and I don’t have to leave any more, which makes me very happy.”

“Do you mind that I ask you to look out for dangers?”

“If you’re unsafe then things can get to me,” they said. “If you’re safe, I’m safe. I want to be safe.” The words were emphatic.

 _So a little part of you is selfish,_ I thought. More than anything, that made me feel a little better. Amber was getting something of our relationship and that mattered.

I continued down into the basement where the work of the last few days was complete. The diagram was a massive double bordered circle, with thirteen smaller circles within the hallowed space, triangles jutting from them to the inner circle; in twelve of the circles were dolls, all sitting so they faced towards the centre of the circle. Closing everything off was a circle made from salt.

“Is everything still okay?” I asked Amber.

They stood a distance away, keeping far away from the salt, but they had keen eyes and I trusted that they could make out if there was anything I’d missed. I didn’t think Amber knew about the theory when it came to drawing diagrams, but I’d told them about balance, the importance of closed and complete lines, and those were the things they watched out for.

“I don’t see anything wrong,” they said.

I took a breath, then, “I call upon the Echo of Elizabeth Cooke. Come forth.”

Each of the dolls started to glow with spiritual activity, and the echo formed at the centre of the circle. A sense of glee filled me up because I hadn’t been sure if my circle would work. I’d used a whole heap of ideas I’d picked up through my months with the practice, using positioning and a pinch of bullshitting to make things stick.

The woman’s expression was cold as she took me in.

“How are you today?” I asked.

“I miss my baby,” she said.

“Jaden wasn’t your child.”

“He’s blood of my blood,” she said. “He was mine.”

A web pointing far away flared and get stronger, even so it was thin.

“I thought I already explained why the connection between you and him is so tenuous,” I said and the web dimmed, dried then snapped.

The lips of the Echo of Elizabeth Cooke pursed. She said nothing.

“I would like us to deal,” I said.

“Do you offer me my freedom?” she asked.

I shook my head, my stomach flipping because _this_ felt uncomfortable. The Echo of Elizabeth Cooke had hurt Jaden’s mom, but imprisoning her wasn’t about justice or anything of the kind. It was because of the power that she could offer me and I had to make sure to remember that so I wouldn’t lie to myself.

Slowly and carefully I walked over to a box on a table, in it was a handmade doll, a little raggedy with a few dark marks.

“Jaden was the one who bought this for me,” I told her.

It had been a worrying few days. I’d called Jaden and given him a lot of money to go to a few antique shops, searching for any old dolls that felt similar to those I’d bought from him. The next few days there’d been nothing from him and I’d thought he’d run away with my money, but he hadn’t and he’d returned with a doll that looked right and had enough spiritual activity that — even if it wasn’t old — was the work of a lot of love.

Jaden hadn’t bought the doll from an antique shop, but from a friend he’d talked to about our strange situation. The doll had been bought on the cheap and I’d given Jaden some of the change as thanks for his work — not that he’d wanted any, his mom had gotten back from hospital and nothing strange had happened since her return. He seemed content.

“And I’m willing to give it to you,” I continued. “It’ll be so you can get back to thirteen. It’s supposed to be a magic number, and since it was the number of dolls you made, it might make you more balanced.”

Head held high she asked, “And what do you want in return?”

“To ask some questions of you,” I said. “Perhaps thirteen. Others have patterns that make them easier for the world to reconcile, the more you lean into them, the more…stable you become. We could make this a pattern for you, strong ties to the number thirteen. Of course you’ll have to answer the questions honestly and completely, giving me clarification if I don’t understand the answer.”

“Should that not be its own question?” she asked.

“I don’t feel like it does,” I said. “If I allow that, then you might make your answers as confusing as possible to get me to ask all my questions to get clarification. This incentives fairness of a sort.”

“Of a sort indeed,” she said.

“Are you willing to accept the terms of the deal as stated? Thirteen questions as payment for a doll that will be yours in its entirety—”

“But will it be mine if I am kept by you?” she asked. “Is it not, in essence, still yours?”

I frowned, feeling that discomfort again. “You have a point,” I said. “It will be yours to do with as you please, but it will be subject to bindings and deals as they affect you. Is that good enough?”

She hummed.

“Are you willing to accept?”

“I’m willing,” she said, which meant it was time to get into deal making.

My stuff was spread around without much rhyme or reason. I’d kept telling myself I’d clean things up but it was too tiring to do too much. I found the notebook where I’d prepared the nitty-gritty of the deal and I told it to the Echo of Elizabeth Cooke. She had a few changes she wanted to make and after a bit of time thinking about them, we agreed on a compromise.

When the agreements concluded, I had thirteen questions but they couldn’t be about Jaden or ways to hurt him. I could ask about the former life of Elizabeth Cooke, though, which had been one of the sticking points.

I went and put the doll in the empty circle then stepped back.

“As per the terms of our compact, the doll is so given to the Echo of Elizabeth Cooke,” I said.

The echo broke apart, colour bleeding out of her as the dolls glowed once more; wisps of moving light appeared within the hallowed space between the chalk line and the line of salt, flowing around so they connected the dolls. As the effect swelled the dolls shifted, all of them turning so they face their thirteenth counterpart, the triangles I’d drawn moving to do the same. Light wrapped around the doll and started to seep into it. I squinted with the Sight and I watched as granules of differently coloured light were ejected from the doll while the light from the echo coalesced.

I moved around to get a sense of everything, and the lines had shifted much like Dennis had taught me so long ago, creating a tunnel which directed how the extra stuff would eject. Interestingly, the spirit stuff wasn’t bound by the salt line.

The Echo of Elizabeth Cooke wasn’t a regular echo, she wasn’t as stilted as those like the Abusive Man, instead she seemed more like a _spirit_. I had a suspicion that she had been a Practitioner in her former life and it was the reason she’d been able to form an echo so fully realised, which was why I’d wanted to be able to ask questions about her and her life.

The thirteenth doll changed in little ways, its dress and makeup seeming more like its companions, and its hair becoming human-like, though it was made out of spirit stuff.

In all, the process took a few minutes and then it was done, but there was something _left,_ a morsel of light as small as a fingernail.

“Is that dangerous?” I asked Amber.

“It reminds me of the bird,” they said.

“Echo of Elizabeth Cooke,” I said. “Return to your home until you’re next called.”

She disappeared back into the dolls.

I ran around and went to pick up the hallow earring Victoria had given me as a gift, then ran it through the air where the swirl of light was. The laughter of a child chimed as I put it on, quickly turning into excited whispers that I couldn’t make out.

“Someone might trade for this,” I said to Amber. They shrugged.

There were questions to be asked but I had other things to do. First I sent texts to Lisa and Victoria about the earring, asking them to spread the word if anyone wanted to trade something; then I went upstairs and did the first of the day’s schoolwork. It was _very_ boring, but I’d made promises to myself that the practice would be spaced out between bouts of work, serving as rewards. Thankfully the promise had been mental because there were a few times that I just didn’t bother.

An hour after that I went to tend both the apple tree and the elven plant, making a mental note to find time to visit the elves so I’d get the new instructions, and some advice on how to best grow the apple tree.

I alternated between school and practice until two in the afternoon, then decided I was done and gave myself fully over to the practice.

Today’s project was making a hallow out of a new chain I’d bought. The old one was gone, first taken from me by Viktor before he’d lost it himself. It meant that I would have to treat the new chain with fire for a while to get it to drawn in flame Others, but I was well prepared to do that.

The first step was setting the table, which meant drawing a diagram that would keep out unwanted spirits while allowing those within to be left out. The diagram was something I’d drawn a long while back on a piece of plywood. I moved it from the floor onto the table. The second step was cleaning myself, which meant washing my hands and arms with lye soap, before scrubbing them with a rock until they ached; third step was clearing the room, which meant burning sage and walking around the basement while waving it around.

Then it was time to get to work. I had a basin filled with saltwater and I plunged the chain in, scrubbing it with a brush with metal bristles. When it was clean, I clipped it on an exposed nail on the ceiling so it hung down over the diagram — the water wasn’t thrown away, instead deposited into a big bucket; it was filled with the impurities from the process and maybe I could use it in a ritual or project. I put a small bowl under the chain, filled it with sage and burned it, letting its vapours drift up into the chain and remove the spirits within.

For the next two hours I kept checking on the chain, adding more sage to keep the effect going; after the two hours I removed the sage and put a red candle under the chain and lit it.

The chain was now a hallow, but I wanted it to draw in certain spirits and that meant priming it. I wasn’t sure if this would work, but there would always be a candle lit under the chain so it could draw in its warmth. After the process was done, I would make it into a hallow again and then make a trip into the Ruins to find a fire Other.

***

“Taylor!” said Elwin. “How did the chase with the Alabaster go?”

The moon shone from above, giving the glade an ethereal feel. I was dressed in my cloak, carrying my stick and my shoes hanging by their laces on my neck. There were still slight aches in my feet, but between Olly’s healing, the two weeks of rest I’d had and my cloak, I had vigour enough to ignore the pain.

“It’s been over two weeks,” I said. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Two weeks?” Elwin said, surprised. “Oh. Well. Tell me what’s been going on and I’ll offer you payment. Perhaps a hunt. There’ve been wolves in the area again since that Beastling Other’s return.”

“It’s come back?”

He bobbed his head in a nod. “It’s better than before,” he said. “Not tamed, but I can see the chains of oaths that have been agreed to. There aren’t as many killings and it’s a _part_ of the environment instead of ravaging it. But as is pattern with these things, it’s changing this place to more fit its nature, thus more wolves.”

I nodded. “Hunting would be nice,” I said

“Then let’s go,” he said. “No, wait. I’ll prepare some tea. It has healing properties and it will enable you to mend faster. You’ll tell me the story while we drink.”

The tea was nice, warming me up and relieving a tension not in my body but in my soul. I told Elwin everything about the chase and my feelings about it, some of the things I’d heard about Mr Calvert and eventually the task that the Alabaster had left for me.

“I don’t think you should walk the Paths again,” said Elwin.

I frowned. “Why?”

“I’m a bit concerned, Taylor Hebert,” he said. His face scrunched in a frown that looked odd against a young face, cute when it should have been serious. “Cyneweard travelled after you gave us the message from our cousins. She walked into the Spirit World, then used that to find an opening into the _Dream;_ from there she found a Path and through their intertwining roads she went the Friend’s way. There she found stories of a great elder beast that travels on the outskirts.”

“I think I heard about that,” I said. “It was called by Practitioner activity, if I’m remembering correctly.”

“A Primeval,” said Elwin, his voice low. “Great Others so old they are amongst the toughest to bind.”

“Tougher than the Endbringers?”

Elwin pursed his lips. “The Endbringers are an oddity,” he said. “They have old power and yet they’re new, godlike in their ability and — though they have something of a pattern — are odd and far reaching. They haven’t been bound, but they are not so old that they have gained power from their unbinding. The Primevals, though, have and they grow in power as one is slain.”

“So what does this one have to do with me walking the Garden Route or Paths in general?”

“It may be coincidence,” he said, “but such things should be paid keen attention to in our world. Twice now you’ve been close to a Primeval and it seems to be getting closer. I would not walk a Path less this Primeval is tied to you and in some fashion it uses you to breach the world of dreams and find itself in ours.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t even know that was something I had to worry about,” I told him, my voice catching.

“This is not prophecy,” he said, “however there are people who have a knack for trouble, whether it is causing it or _calling_ it. I think that you may be in this category of people.”

“Does it have anything to do with bad karma?” I asked.

He hummed. “There is the whiff of something bad spread over you,” he said. “Less so now than when we first met, but karma and the knack are different.”

“People have been commenting on how many things I’ve gotten involved in since I became a Practitioner. Guess now it makes a little sense.”

“Take pride,” he said. “I happened upon a girl, perhaps a woman now, who had such a knack as you. Durocher, she was called, and she had a liking to a pet I once had before my enemies found me and slew it.”

“That sounds like it sucked.”

He nodded and took a sip of his tea. “May I look at your stick?” he said.

“You may,” I said and I handed it over.

“It’s grown stronger,” he said. He turned it, squinting as he brought it close to his face. “A beating stick that’s now becoming a walking stick. The top is rounded and the bottom is becoming more pointed, better able to sink into the ground and give you support.”

“It’s been a real boon,” I said.

“Sticks are some of the oldest weapons,” he said. “Along with rocks, though they have fallen out of fashion because of the intricacy that the practice has taken. A good stick is good for beating, if you’re deft you may be able to parry an attack, it is support if you’re harmed, and it can be an extension of the arm, perhaps offered in helping another.”

He handed it over.

“I hope this doesn’t come off as rude,” I said, “but…the lesson you just gave me. It sounds like you want me to take the stick as an implement.”

“I offer a lesson,” he said, “a bit of history.”

 _“Only?”_ I asked.

He laughed, a sound that filled the air around us, similar to the chirping of a bird. “You’ve become a Practitioner,” he said.

I shrugged. “I notice that you haven’t answered my question.”

“Instructions,” he said. “For the flower. No doubt you’ll also want help raising that tree gifted by the Alabaster.”

“I didn’t tell you I planted it.”

Elwin ignored me, going to his tree and disappearing within. He came back with two scrolls.

“These are for you,” he said. “It’ll be exciting to have an Alabaster tree in the Bay. There are only three people who tend to plants in the entire city and its left spirits aligned with nature in a sad state. At one point there were only _trees_ in this area, wildlife filled it to the brim and those who lived here worked in tandem with nature. Then the ships came and things changed, the European practices took hold and they took it quite firmly.”

He sighed mournfully.

“So many of the old practices are gone,” he said. “Though some of them still live through you, Taylor Hebert. A painted face of blood, tapping not into deals but the _hunt._ Giving a bit of yourself to grow, tending and nurturing that which will outlast you, I praise it and I praised you.”

I swallowed. “Thanks, I guess,” I said.

“Do I have them?” he asked me with a sly smile.

“Only one,” I said. “How much do you know about healing?”

“A fair bit,” he said. “You will find instructions on giving a bit of your self to help in the growing of plants, as well as a few seeds you might find useful.”

“I didn’t ask for that.”

“And yet I have given it,” he said. “Freely so with no expectation of repayment. There are not many cultivators in Brockton Bay, as I have said, and to aid one is something I do gladly.”

“Okay,” I said with a shrug. “Do you think we’ll be able to run tonight? I’m not at my best.”

“Let’s finish our tea, first,” he said. “Cyneweard is set to return from New York with a you Practitioner. Perhaps we might run together.”

Cyneweard arrived ten minutes later, so tall it was intimidating, with ebony skin that had a glossy sheen, silver lines etched into her, different from when we’d first met. She seemed different, with wrinkled skin and eyes that seemed older.

A girl shorter than me was with her, pale of skin and with straight black hair that was cut short. She was… _pretty,_ dressed in clothes that seemed old and bedraggled. She had on a pair of faded jeans with rips and tears in places, well-worn boots that shone with spiritual activity, and a large jacket with a puffy hood. Like Cyneweard she had a quiver at her back, with three arrows and a long stick poking out of it. Weirdest of all, though, where the fox ears peeking out from her hair.

All of the clothes she had on were bright against the Sight, glimmering with light and bits of impressions; brightest of all was her quiver, which unfolded and ballooned into a backpack the more I focused on it. She herself looked much the same, though she had wary, ever-moving eyes that looked like they belonged to a bird.

“Cyneweard!” said Elwin. He rushed to her and gave her a hug. The woman bent and picked him up, proceeding to put him on her shoulders. “How was New York?” he asked, playing with her hair.

“It smells as it usually does,” she said. “Though Central Park continues to grow. It now has a spirit that tends it needs. The Butcher sends her regards.”

“They’re a her, now?” Elwin asked.

“Yes,” said Cyneweard. “Apologies, introductions have yet to be made. Besides me stands a Practitioner from New York, Lily.”

“Hey,” she said with a small wave.

I smiled back. “I’m Taylor,” I told her. “Cool ears.”

They twitched. She smiled but it was a little sombre. “A gift from…a former friend,” she said. “I love your coat.”

“Taylor and I were going to hunt wolves,” said Elwin. “Do you want to come with us?”

Lily shrugged. “That sounds like fun,” she said. “There’s not a lot of hunting in New York. Except rats, those can get big, and very dangerous in the undercity. _”_

“Yeah?” I said as we moved. “How is New York?”

She sighed. “Busy,” she said. “There’s a lot of stuff going on everywhere.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but that’s true for the Bay.”

“Do you have Diabolists?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Then that’s better,” she said.

“We shouldn’t speak of such things,” Cyneweard, her voice grave. “At risks of inviting them in.”

We left the glade and moved through the trees, Cyneweard staying behind. Elwin pulled me along and I followed, running up a tree in a way I hadn’t done in a long time. Lily followed behind us, though when she stepped through the trees it was _loud._ It took me a moment to figure out the why — her boots had retractable cleats on their underside, and they shot out to give her purchase when she had to scale up walls.

“I know a silencing rune,” I said, “and I could teach it to you.”

“What for?” she asked, suspicious.

“Um…free? As free as something can be in this world,” I said.

She chuckled darkly. “People always expect something even when they give gifts,” she said.

I shook my head. “I’ll teach you the rune freely, with no want or expectation of repayment. It’s how it was taught to me. I’m just paying that forward.”

“Sorry,” she said. “Just…I have bad experiences with people who’ve given me gifts.”

“It’s okay, I guess,” I said.

We stopped and spent a few moments as we sorted out the runes on the boots. Lily had a vial filled with sludge – essence of rat she explained – and she used that as a power source. The runes flared and as she moved she was silent.

We continued forward, Elwin in the lead and our pace slow.

“This is a lot different from moving through the city,” said Lily, her voice low. “That’s usually my stomping ground. Scaling walls, roof hopping and crawling through narrow tunnels.”

“Where are you from in New York?” I asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“You won’t use this information against me?” she asked.

“I won’t use the information gathered during our conversation to attack or assist in attacking you, directly or indirectly, except if you attack me first using information I’ve told you.”

“I so similarly promise,” she said.

“I so swear,” said Elwin absently.

“I lived in Central Park,” said Lily.

I frowned. “Are there houses in Central Park?”

She shook her head. “There’s some out of the way places, and me, my ex, and a friend of ours lived there, using the practice to make sure we weren’t thrown out by the cops.”

“Oh,” I said. “Um…”

“It’s okay if you don’t know how to react,” she said with a shrug.

“I want to say I’m sorry,” I told her. “Just…sometimes sorry can be used against you.”

She snorted. “I’ve seen that before,” she said. “There was a faerie that got into New York and it stole my friend’s apologies. We spent an entire six months chasing it down until we finally got him.”

“What did that mean?” I asked.

“My buddy couldn’t apologise for slights,” she said, “and he had a lot of problems in the first place that made being able apologise needed. We quickly racked up a lot of enemies and we had to trouble for a while until…”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said, the words slipping out.

“Thanks,” she said, smiling bright. “I appreciate it. Sorry for being such a bummer. Just…a lot’s happened over the last few days and now I’m here and I don’t know how I fit in.”

“You’re going to be staying in the Bay?”

“Yeah.”

“I know some people if you want me to talk to them,” I said. “Maybe they’ll be able to give you a place to stay.”

“That would be awesome and really appreciated,” she said.

“You have our leave to stay for the night, Cyneweard told you that, yes?” Elwin asked.

“Yeah. She did,” said Lily. “I’ll be here if things work out.”

“We’re close,” said Elwin. “Silence.”

We turned silent. Lily pulled out the long stick, flicked it so it turned into a bow and her expression became one of focus. Stick in hand, I followed suit.

***

“Taylor,” said Lisa. It was mid-afternoon and I was in the Docks, outside the Undersiders’ base. My skin felt hot and my heart hammered in my stomach, a thrill of exhilaration still running through me after the bike ride into the Docks. After a look around, I shrugged on my coat because the trip had disturbed a lot of my injuries and my body ached. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Hey,” I said. “It’s been a while.”

“Yep. A good rest after a _lot_ going on,” she said. “I’ve had to refill my power base but there hasn’t been enough time to do that. Mostly it’s just been watching the news to see how things are falling. Come in?”

I did, following her up a narrow set of stairs into a room that looked out of place against the degradation of the building’s exterior, awkwardly pulling up my bike alongside me. The television was on as we got up, and Alec sat in front of it, eating cereal while cartoons played. He glanced back then turned forward again without even a greeting.

“Ignore him,” said Lisa. She caught my arm and pulled me along as we went into the kitchen. 

“Is Trevor here?”

She shook her head. “He’s got school. Aisha likes hanging out with him and she’s been going to school a lot more often because of him.”

“Is that good?”

“Grue likes it,” she said with a shrug. We found a seat on the barstools in the kitchen. From my seat I could see out the window, there was graffiti scrawled on the other side and I could see it shifting slightly, moving to resettle. Beyond that was the decrepit oil rig in the far distance. “How’s your downtime been? Working on healing, on your _self?”_

I took in a deep breath and then let it go. “Mostly I’ve been healing,” I told her.

“Ah,” she said. “If it’s not something you’re comfortable with yet, that’s perfectly valid.”

I shrugged.

“How did things pan out with the deal you made with Sophia?” Lisa asked.

“She and Madison met its terms,” I said. “Emma’s been quiet, but I haven’t been seeking her out. I’m aware that I didn’t give them a due date to answer my questions.”

“You could push it if you want. Tell her you want the payment now and I’m sure the spirits would ratchet up the pressure.” She frowned. “But I have a feeling you don’t want that?”

“How much do you know about everything?”

“Not a lot. I know they were shitty to you and that you don’t like them,” she said. “I think it’s part of why Calvert chose you as an apprentice in the first place, because you were isolated.”

I nodded. “It was bullying and it was bad _._ It hurt a lot, but it hurt the most from Emma because she was my best friend. I guess I understand why the others treated me the way that they did, but I haven’t filled in the picture with her.”

“If you want, I could tell you what I saw while we were around her. It would be the first steps in figuring out, getting closure.”

“I don’t know…maybe I want _her_ to be the one to explain it, to give the unfiltered perspective?”

“I think I can understand that,” she said. “Sorry, I didn’t offer you food.” She stood and went into the fridge. “We’ve got some cold pizza and juice. Up for it?” I nodded. “Did it give you closure? When Madison and Sophia gave you their explanations?”

“I’m not sure if I’ve forgiven them,” I said. “They still hurt me and that’s not magically gone now, but I understand them a lot more and that helps make things…not better, but make more sense?” I sighed. “I have no idea what I expected closure to be like and I’m not sure if I did this all right.”

“It’s personal, right?” said Lisa as she sat. “That’s what matters. How it makes you feel. I don’t think most people will try and force you to forgive them or something like that, and it’ll be alright if you just decide you don’t want to be around them at the end of the day.”

“I think that’s the best thing. None of them have even said sorry. Sophia at least seems like she’s trying to make amends, but then sometimes it feels like she doesn’t internalise that what she did was wrong. She keeps minimising it or trying to foist it on me.”

“Shitty people don’t think they’re shitty,” said Lisa. “It might be hard to admit in this case.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Anyway, there’s something else. I met someone with the elves, a Practitioner from New York. She’s homeless and, I don’t know, I was wondering if you might have a place for her here?”

“Is she up to being an Undersider?” Lisa asked. “Because that’s the only way that something like that could work.”

“I don’t know. I told her we’d meet today.”

“We could head out and have a chat, though we’ll have cut things short. I was planning on making a trip through the Spirit World.”

“Do you mind if I join? I’ve been wanting to go into the Ruins but I haven’t thought about how yet. I was planning on asking Mr Calvert the next time that we met.”

“What are you looking to do?”

“Built a hallow and burned it so it’s tied to fire,” I said. “I was thinking about going into the Ruins so I can find a fire aligned echo.”

“Might be better that you’re in the Spirit World,” she said. “That way we can find a minor fire spirit. Though who knows how many there are in this city, between Kenta and the Djinn, both use fire and they might collect the on the reg.”

“On the reg?” Alec said from the couch. “What, you’re too busy to finish words now?”

“You’re not needed in this conversation, Alec!” she said, though she was smiling slightly. “I was supposed to go with him so he could be my muscle, but he can be annoying, so yeah, maybe we can call Victoria and make it a girl’s thing.”

“She’s busy with school.”

Lisa tsked. “School,” she muttered. “I keep forgetting that some people have to do that. You, me and maybe this girl you’re trying to help,” and she ended the sentence in wriggling eyebrows.

“It’s not like that,” I said, feeling my neck and face heat up. There was a feeling in my stomach, though I couldn’t sure what that was.

“Really?” she said, teasing. “You know you’re still a Practitioner. We can’t have you lying, even if they’re minor.”

“Yeah. Really,” I said. “She just needs help.” I took hold of the Alabaster strand. “And I’ve sort of taken it on as my duty to help people.”

“That sounds like a lot of work to get nothing,” Alec said.

“It’s good for the world,” I said. “Isn’t that enough?”

He shrugged.

“Some people have goals like yours,” said Lisa, taking my hand. “Saving the world and making it a better place, other people — a lot of people — are like Alec and what they want to get out of life is not having to work a day in their lives.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he muttered.

“What about you?” I asked. “What person are you?”

Lisa smiled and her vulpine grin stretched further. “I’m the type of person who wouldn’t mind knowing the secrets of every important figure in the world,” she said.

“That…that sounds creepy.”

She shrugged. “It’s what I want,” she said. “I don’t know if I’ll get it or not, but it’s what I want. There was a while back where I wanted to call myself Tattletale because it would be cool.”

Alec snorted. “That sounds lame.”

Lisa grabbed a pizza slice and threw. It wasn’t aerodynamic at all but by magic, the web between it and Alec folded. The slice flew faster and as Alec dodged it spun and hit him directly in the face.

He stood and did jazz hands, one of the webs around them glowed and a toddler made of static and paper thin, appeared behind the coach. Alec flicked one finger and the baby toddled forward, expression scrunched and mouth open as it cried; but instead of a whine from its mouth, there was the hiss heavy rain against the road.

The sound was a punch to the stomach, taking all happiness away from and putting in its place an aimless anger. I found my feet and pulled free my stick, my other hand found purchase on the barstool; with a twist I threw the stool at the coming Other and the resulting crash was cacophonous – the sound of cars crashing. Not that it stopped the Bawling Baby.

Without thinking I threw the stick at Alec, it spun through the air with a lot of force.

“Fuck,” he said and ducked.

“Stick!” I said just as he was coming up and it hit him in the back of the head so hard he toppled forward.

My stick found my hand.

The Bawling Baby disappeared mid-step.

The anger disappeared and the resulting feeling was like being doused with cold water. I swallowed, a cold sweat trickling down my back.

A lot of things suddenly became clear to me: Lisa hadn’t moved even a breath since the baby had appeared; it had been moving too slowly and there was no chance it would have covered the distance to hurt us; and that my body shook, my jaw was clenched and my forehead was lined with sweat.

Slowly and mechanically, I told myself to breathe. A shuddering breath left me.

“Ow,” Alec muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “That _fucking_ hurt.”

“Serves you right,” Lisa said, her voice strangled and her attention on me. I looked at her, it wasn’t fear I saw, but worry.

“That was a joke. He wasn’t going to even touch you, fucking _ow._ You could have brained me. _”_

“Twice, I say, serves you right,” said Lisa, she put on a smile, but with the Sight I could see that her vulpine mouth was set in a frown.

“Technically you attacked me first,” he said.

“Thrice, I say, serves you right.”

“Fuck you,” said Alec and he clambered off to his room.

“What was that?” I said, the words coming out weird.

“One part being Alec’s dickish attempt at a joke,” she said. “Another, smaller part, is that an Incarnation of Unrest has appeared in the Bay and it’s been gaining ground as things have been ramping up for the march.”

“I didn’t know about that,” I said.

The words turned my mind away from Alec and onto the Bay and its situation. Dad had gone back to helping with the march, though he didn’t tell me much of what was going on. I’d heard enough to know that there was a lot of chatter about whether to march without a permit, something that had been filed but had needed to be done a month before the event. There was also a lot of business stuff that had to do with stocks, but that stuff almost never made sense to me.

“It’s only recently made itself known,” she said. “But it shouldn’t be a surprise, things have been pushing that way in this city for a while.”

“Is it good or bad?”

She shrugged. “We don’t know yet. Unrest can be a double-edged sword because the Nazis are facing a threat to their power base and they’re feeling mightily agitated about that, which covers our incarnation. It could just be ‘neutral’ by which I mean it just stokes these feelings and lets them fall where they may, which isn’t all that good. There’s a difference between a protest manned by mostly white people and one manned by and for people of colour. If the unrest builds too much for the Nazis, they’ll cause trouble and some people will gladly look the other way, but those most affected won’t and it will cause them to be louder, to need to be harsher to be heard. _Then_ people will listen, but they’ll take away the wrong lesson.”

“Dad’s really been worried about the march being seen as violent,” I said. “He says the news will stick to that and it’ll be hard to get the message through.”

“Yep,” said Lucy and she sighed. “That’s how the world works. I’m curious to see how Calvert’s going to handle it. He’s been very hands off lately.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“At least when it comes to the people side of things,” said Lisa. I frowned. “I mean, look at how many groups are working for or with Calvert right now: the Undersiders, Sophia’s trio, the Travellers and Atticus; he’s also trying to court the Alvarez family, the Witches of Immaculata, and the Dynamite Downtown Dudes. He’s got allies all through the city – independent and Other – and in Boston with Accord, so what’s to say that he doesn’t have any more in other cities or other spheres?”

I shook my head. “I’m still not seeing where you’re going.”

“Insider trading might be illegal, but the spirits don’t care about that,” she said. “It’s still relatively new and abstract at that, with only a few people that it can apply to because who do plebs like us know that we would trade inside?”

“No,” I said.

She smiled. “Sometimes you swing and miss. Anyway, Calvert knew that he had information that would hit Medhall pretty hard and he’s had it for a while. It would be the easiest thing for him to tell his friends that the place’s share price would fall pretty soon, have them buy low and then lay claim on the place.”

“Meaning Mr Anders loses his company?” I said.

“If things work out right,” she said.

“What about the people?” I asked. “What happens to them while he’s doing all that?”

Lisa shrugged.

The Spirit of the Docks had mentioned something when we’d talked, that Calvert was a lot like the others and he thought too big. It hadn’t made much sense back then, but right now I was starting to understand it a little. He focused too much on the big stuff, claiming assets that belonged to the Nazis and making them his own or outright destroying them, but in the interim a lot of people were being hurt.

“Anyway, let’s not linger on that,” she said. “I don’t think there’s anything we could do about it. Go get that girl of yours because the elves don’t like me and I don’t want to walk through any paths they’ve made.”

Absently I nodded and stood, gathering my stuff. I wasn’t as upset as I rode home, but I found myself _very_ dissatisfied that even with how much stronger I’d gotten, the world still had problems I couldn’t do anything about.

 _That just means I have to help in the places I can,_ I thought and with that in mind, I mentally promised myself that I’d find some way to help Lily. As small as the start was, it was at least doing something.


End file.
